Decadence days
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: It should have never happened. WK fic
1. The coldness of the night

_**Decadence days**_

_**The coldness of the night**_

It had to be that way of course. She had always ruined everything, always been the one to blame when it was all falling apart and people looked around, perplexed. It must have been a detail in her persona, a sort of curse that would settle down the future of a general mess and while opening widely her hazel eyes, Karen simply swallowed back her mistakes then.

She sat down on the first armchair she approached and leaned her head backwards. A long sigh escaped from her lips as she stretched her legs; her arms hanging on each side of the seat. She was still holding her handbag and it was brushing the hardwood floor of the library as if it was too heavy but she didn't want to let go of it, for whatever reason; a vital one, perhaps. She frowned, looked down. It wasn't supposed to happen that way, not now.

"Karen…"

She shook her head _ her eyes closed _ and motioned at Will to stay silent. She knew way too well the kind of words he was about to use, the ridiculous comfort over the awkwardness of their own situation. It didn't match.

"Leave me alone."

Her voice got wrapped up in a low murmur that crossed the lines of tears as soon as Will closed the door and she found herself alone with her stifled sobs.

The pale light of the morning caressed her cheeks and she woke up a bit abruptly only to realize that she was still in the library, wearing the same clothes; again and again. She hadn't changed her outfit for two days in a row. Two different reasons; it was time to get over everything. She stood up and headed slowly to her bedroom, avoiding the slightest gaze towards a mirror. She didn't want to get back her reflection but something else finally caught up her attention. Stanley's purple tie was resting on the mattress as if it had just been put there meanwhile her husband was having a shower. He might be having one as a matter of fact but not at home. It was all so confused now. How long would he stay in jail? What had he done exactly? Karen didn't know the slightest thing and was dreading the next days, the weeks; the months.

She took off her stockings and realized that one of them had a run. It always occurred when she had to put them on in the dark, in a rush. Her breath became louder and she started shaking. She didn't cry though, just thought about Will. They would have to speak one day, come back to the events of that night. She stepped into the shower and let the water slide on her body while her eyes were staring blankly at the marbled wall in front of her. _Lucky, lucky day is going away… _Like a lullaby the words began to twirl in her head and she felt dizzy. Had he drawn an implicit line under it? Had she done the same? It sounded logical and the least thing they should have done but…

Someone knocked on the door. Karen jumped, abandoning her thoughts behind. She cleared her voice and answered to Rosario in a fake light tone.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but she focalized on it and started panicking. The blue trace that his lips had left on her bare shoulder was contrasting sharply with the paleness of her complexion. It was okay though, she just didn't have to wear any low-cut for a while and it would disappear. She even could hide it under a layer of powder or something… Her trembling fingers brushed it while her eyes, like hypnotized, were fixing the hickey in the reflection of the bathroom.

"Oh God…"

As if the remorse she was having weren't enough, now she had to deal with a visual proof of her infidelity; just the night before her husband got arrested. She blushed, deeply ashamed. What had she been thinking about? She had had no respect for anyone, not even herself. It was way to easy to spread her legs as soon as she could see the slightest opportunity and maybe some men had been right after all. She was a slut, an Upper East Side one with high requirements.

"Or not even…"

Her thoughts made their way to her lips and finished in a bitter remark. She wrapped her tiny frame in a bath towel and hurried to her closet to pick up some clothes. Her cell phone rang in the background; it was just a message. She put on her skirt and a sage black top before coming back to her bed.

_You weren't alone that night; I take you out for lunch time_

She deleted the message immediately, not bothering a reply. Anyway he would stop by the office and pretend that they had to deal over some papers. It seemed obvious and logical since Stanley had been arrested the day before. She just wasn't that ready for a face-to-face with Will. She needed time to accept the jail, the procedure and the way she had smiled in her friend's mouth when she had deepened the kiss, inviting him thus to go further. For the moment it was all very confusing, troubling because as much as she knew that she was supposed to regret it, she had enjoyed the night in Will's company.

She put her sunglasses on, no matter it was raining, and left the mansion. She would have never imagined that guilt could lead to such loneliness and then all you were wishing for was to disappear and be forgotten.


	2. The mystery of infidelity

**_The mystery of infidelity  
_**

Her hazel eyes slid up from the waiter's arm to his face. She smiled shyly as he put down the Martini on the table before thanking him quietly through a vague nod. The employee went away, barely paying attention to her gesture. She looked back at the glass in front of her and began to play aimlessly with the olive. As a matter of fact she felt like drinking water, disappearing then in the crowd of commonness but such a logical choice would have set off the exact opposite and so she would have intrigued Will even more. It was funny to play a role but sometimes it only gave her the sentiment that she was trapped in it as if the character had won over the person and it was frightening.

The silence over their table was slowly weighing on her, highlighting thus the embarrassment of the situation. Someone had to make the first step or it would become very soon unbearable. She opened her mouth but Will resulted quicker.

"Karen, listen…"

"Do you know when the visits are allowed? I assume Stanley is going to be put in some special area as he's not exactly like the other prisoners so I was wondering if I could have a chance to see him more often. I'm his wife; I have to support him as much as I can. I don't really mind about the reason why he landed there and actually, I don't want to know about it. So I let you do your job and I do mine, okay? I mean…"

The words were rushing to her lips in a torrent of nervousness. She knew very well that it was just an attempt to fill the conversation but she couldn't help it; as much as the blush warming up her cheeks. She was looking everywhere but at him. Avoiding his gaze seemed to be indispensable if she ever wanted to handle the lunch properly.

The questions were coming out in a perpetual whirl, a dizzy one but she didn't even let Will the slightest chance to answer to them. Another one was already on its way when she had barely finished the previous one. Before the unexpected monologue, Will sounded lost and disarmed. He stared with perplexity at Karen, like hypnotized by the way her lips kept on moving. It took him a couple of minutes to react and finally put an end to his friend's sudden effervescence.

"It's going to be alright."

His voice had been firm and reassuring but the way his hand grabbed hers simply made Karen jump. She observed his fingers as her own hand came to hide in the depths of her napkin, somewhere over her lap. She frowned, a bit breathless. She hadn't even thought about filling her lungs with air when the gesture was supposed to be instinctive, mechanical.

She shook her head and whispered blankly.

"No it's not, Will. It's not going to be alright after what I did."

As much as Karen pretended to be a big mystery to everyone, Will had barely met in his life someone as logical, transparent; so easy to read. Perhaps it was caused by the eccentricities she forced herself to adopt. Her behavior was too eloquent and dramatic to be taken seriously so when she finally allowed people to reach her real persona, you weren't even surprised by the way it turned.

She was nourishing regrets, felt guilty and was probably confused too. She focalized on her actions to the point she had forgotten that she hadn't been alone that night. She hadn't included him in her last sentence when she should have done it, on a fairly point of view.

"Why did you leave?"

Karen sighed, shook her head. She had brought it up in the conversation when she had wanted so much to avoid it in the first place. Everything was going wrong lately and she was making mistake over mistake.

A few seconds flew away and she finally locked her eyes with his. They were glimmering way too much though. She bit her lower lip and shrugged; swallowed back painful tears.

"I'm not that talkative in the morning."

Her answer left a blank over their table. None of them really knew what to do or what to say next. There hadn't been any morning after. The next time she had faced him, two federal agents had been standing by her side and another reality had taken their furtive intimacy away.

Will's silence got on her nerves. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of Martini; laughed sharply.

"What were you expecting anyway, that I sent everything to Hell and shouted to the whole world that I love you? And then it would be all pink and so easy… Come on, this is not a movie, Will. We're not going through some fictive story or whatever. This is reality; my reality. I cheated on my husband a couple of hours before him getting arrested. These are the facts, what I did. And it's all I have to deal with now."

Will sighed and moved uncomfortably on his seat; then bent over, lowered his voice.

"You know it's not what I was expecting. It's just… Oh God, what I know? Leaving like that in the middle of the night is…"

"What would it have changed if I had stayed?"

"You wouldn't have had to face it all by yourself as I know you did."

Karen looked aside for a couple of seconds, swallowing back the veracity of Will's words. She hadn't managed to sleep that night; had barely closed an eye since then.

"I'm not in love with you, honey. I'm sorry but I'm not, neither are you. I can't really explain why we did it but all I know is that it was a mistake. I'm married."

"Are you in love with Stanley?"

"He's my husband."

She had taken way too much time before replying and even the words she had finally chosen sounded odd, uncertain. The sentence was too blank to show the slightest bit of eventual feelings. One more time Karen knew she had failed.


	3. The perfect wife

**_The perfect wife_**

A routine began to appear in Karen's life, a heavy one but not so lonely. The series of procedures had turned into a strange mechanic of logic and if she happened to feel a wave of anxiety spread over her mind then she simply had to look up, right or left; there was always someone by her side. Most of the times and for obvious reasons Will got wrapped into the role of the quiet acolyte but Grace and Jack hadn't declined either. It touched her a lot, probably more than anyone would ever imagine but the words never managed to make their way to her lips. She hoped they knew and understood her embarrassed silence. She hoped so many things as a matter of fact.

Like forgetting; her heart was claiming for a relief and a complete amnesia concerning the night before Stanley's arrest but obviously it wasn't easy like that. Her brain cells seemed to have melt in an atrocious fusion, leading to a concentration on nothing but it. The images came back like powerful lights thrown in the eyes during a terrible headache, making her frown; look down. She remembered everything from the way his hand had hold her lower back while she had been straddling him to the blankness set off by the realization, a couple of hours later, that she had crossed some shameful limits.

_Nobody is perfect. _Her mother used to repeat it a lot every time they packed and hit the road again for another city lost in the middle of nowhere but that absurd dreams kept alive and bright almost by necessity. It was an evident fact and she couldn't really show any objection to it but what that sentence hid was the different degrees in making mistakes. Some were easy to forgive when others would burn the flesh and tear the heart of the culprit until the end. She belonged to the last category and it brought her down so much.

They hadn't mentioned it. After the conversation at the restaurant, she had pretended to turn the page over it, as well as Will. And life had gone on, a bit awkwardly at the beginning but the monotony of the days had finally won over the odd sentiment and things were back to normal, at least in appearance. The irony of Stanley's situation made the two friends spend more time together and they couldn't help growing closer but with a distance imposed by guilt that, while plunging in the bittersweet shades of infidelity, hadn't crossed their mind at all. They hadn't thought about the consequences, the aftermath. Even if the events hadn't turned that way, their sudden intimacy still would have broken something but under the contact of each other's skin, it had just flown away. They were paying now for their irresponsibility.

The last houses disappeared behind as the limousine took the road leading to the jail. Karen hadn't said a single word since they had driven off from Manhattan. As usual her gaze seemed lost, observing absent-mindedly the buildings speeding past while the depth of her features gave an icy tone to the atmosphere.

For some reason she let him do as his fingers slid to hers and he pressed her hand. All the previous attempts had failed. She had jumped and looked at him disapprovingly the first time he had dared the slightest contact, no matter the purity of the act; the motion of moral support. His thumb began to caress the back of her hand and she relaxed. She needed tenderness and attention. To be completely honest she was dying for a hug and the heat of someone's body against her. She turned her face and smiled timidly at Will, sat on the other end of the leather seat.

She didn't have enough time to react. Within a second she found herself under him as he was kissing her deeply, a hand on her inner thigh. It's only when his fingers reached her breasts that Karen moved, pushed him away. They sat up, breathless as her hazel eyes fixed on his brown ones were pleading for apologies. She looked devastated, panicked and hurt when Will seemed lost and perplexed before his own reaction.

"I'm sorry…"

His voice got wrapped in a confused whisper. She nodded before turning around and leaning her forehead on the window of the limousine. The jail appeared but for once she closed her eyes at the sight of it and cried silently.

A bright smile lit up her face as she sat down in front of Stanley. The transparent separation between them always broke her heart but at least she could observe him. He seemed so close, so distant. With her fingers she traced an invisible path over the glass and he followed her movement. It made her giggle; tiny facts of a lame existence where desperate people were still looking for an ounce of joy in the least detail. For some reason she looked up and caught Will's reflection through the plastic wall. He was leaned on the door behind her, waiting sagely. He looked uncomfortable. The mere memory of him rushing on her in the limousine brought tears to her eyes but Stanley misunderstood them. She didn't correct him.

What was the point? She was suffering anyway, from Stanley, from Will; from herself for being so confused. Perhaps she wasn't that good at lying, as she had been hoping for so long. Perhaps the role she had been playing was getting tired and she was running out of lines. Perhaps she wasn't born to be the perfect wife.

Will's hand came to rest on her shoulder; it sent shivers to her spine. She waved good-bye at Stanley and stood up; left.

And perhaps it was better like that.


	4. A different perspective

**_A different perspective_**

"What do you think about adultery?"

The question made Jack choke on his glass of water and blush a little as Karen realized while narrowing her eyes at him, astonished. He moved uncomfortably on his chair and shrugged; plunged his blue eyes in his friend's hazel ones.

"I think it's terribly sexy. The sound of it, I mean. The word in itself is exciting but as soon as it enters our reality it becomes creepy."

Karen didn't say anything. She raised an eyebrow, dubitatively, as if she were weighing his point of view. It seemed to be a fair one, logical; expected. Her silence troubled Jack though. He bent over and smiled mischievously.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know, it was just a wonder."

"What do you think about it? What's your opinion on infidelity?"

She wished the phone had rung at this exact moment or that someone had knocked on the door and she wouldn't have had to answer. The conversation would have been forgotten and nobody would have had to deal with the odd feeling that mistakes owned an appealing note in a certain measure.

She frowned and cleared her voice as her fingers were sliding aimlessly along the glass of Vodka she was holding.

"I think it happens when a couple faces some problems… And they don't speak about them. It's a lack of communication."

"You didn't answer my question. I know what or why infidelity comes up. It's your point of view I'm asking for."

Karen bit the inside of her mouth in frustration. She hated when Jack was serious. She always felt weak by then, not that superior. He could be smart when he wanted to, way too much.

"Let's say I understand it."

Jack burst out laughing before finally shaking his head to her. He rolled his eyes and sighed; pouted.

"You're such a liar, Karen Walker. You don't mind it to happen to the others but if it were you… Things would be different. Don't you remember the day you thought Stanley had an affair with Tina? You blessed her when you happened to know that she was actually sleeping with Will's father but you had been mad all along. Honestly, what would you do if your husband cheated on you?"

He knew her way too well. She had never been able to explain their friendship apart from the fact that he was bringing brightness to her days. And it was rare; precious. She took the last sip of her drink then looked down; passed her tongue over her wet lips.

"I would divorce him."

It was just a whispered statement, bitterly honest.

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The door got slammed behind her and she couldn't help but jump, a bit troubled by the situation. It had been a whim, a sudden impulsion and without really knowing why, Karen had found herself in her limousine, heading on her own to the jail to see Stanley. Perhaps the conversation she had had with Jack had set off something; as well as prohibited thoughts wandering through her mind, her night with Will. But still, for the very first time she was alone out there and it was extremely intimidating.

She sat down slowly and locked her eyes with his. He had lost weight and looked tired; she felt like hugging him, comforting him and getting forgiven no matter she was too coward to confess the slightest thing. Never breaking eye-contact, Karen picked up the phone and smiled brightly as Stanley did alike.

"How are you, honey?"

"I'm fine; a little surprised to see you here."

"I was missing you."

The day before Stanley had been sentenced to a three-year without bail for some hidden money in The Bahamas. An instinctive reaction had pushed her to have a deep disgust towards the sun and high temperatures. Not that she had ever loved them but now they had got identified to the separation she was suffering from.

"It's good to see you here though, Karen. I want to talk to you."

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

Her heart speeded up its pace and she felt her throat tighten under anxiety. Stanley wasn't talkative. He barely used words but for synthesis and important things. If he started a conversation then you could be sure that his goal was meaningful.

"I want you to see someone else. I want you to keep on living. You don't have to pay for what I did. You're not the one to blame."

Karen frowned, shook her head before his protective attempt towards her own person. He cared a lot about her and that was the reason why she had begun to look at him in the first place. He didn't behave like the other men. He was sweet, attentive.

"Honey, what are three years in a whole life? It's okay for me…"

"And it's okay for me that you start dating someone else. I mean it's healthy and normal. You can't be put in parenthesis like that."

His statement made her laugh; blush a little. They weren't alone; a guard was standing just behind her. She cleared her voice and lowered her tone.

"But we're married, Stanley. It would be… You know."

It was becoming ironical, way too much. The discussion was burning her throat, tearing her heart and breaking it into pieces as flashes of her night in Will's arms were coming back to her mind with strength.

"It's not adultery when one of the two can't fulfill the requirement anymore. It's fair enough to satisfy our own desires with a third person if for some reason it doesn't work out anymore."

Karen froze. Some people might have fallen under the charms of such a free spirit but it only set off a vague of interrogations over her soul. She took a deep breath and blinked. Perhaps she had got lost in a misunderstanding.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"When pleasure can't be found anymore in our long-time partner then it's time to look somewhere else."

"So you don't reduce this possibility to your incarceration?"

Her question pissed him off. He sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at her as if she were slow. It always hurt her when he did so but she didn't really complain. It was just one of his bad sides and nobody was perfect.

Karen straightened on her chair and locked her eyes with his in a cold motion.

"Would you look for someone else, Stan?"

"If you didn't satisfy me anymore, well yes…"

He hadn't even hesitated. His reply had been short, effective and direct.


	5. The honesty of the morning after

**_The honesty of the morning after  
_**

Will had never really liked the Walkers' building. The profusion of luxury was almost insulting and made you feel indignant before it. All this marble, the golden doors of the lobby; it was just the decadent showing of money. He stepped in the elevators and pressed to the last floor, his briefcase in hand. He had spent the whole weekend out of town and she hadn't called him, hadn't seen Jack or Grace. It used to happen all the time but the situation was different now and Will knew that Karen wasn't fine enough to stay alone from anyone.

The doors flew opened in a metallic sound stifled by some annoying music playing in the background. Will made a few steps; rang. The silence of the hallway always contrasted sharply with the boiling traffic on Madison Avenue just below and you couldn't help but being taken aback by the difference as soon as you stepped in one of those imposing sky-scrappers.

Rosario finally came to face him but the maid shook her head immediately.

"She moved out to the guest flat a couple of days ago with all her things and refused to give us the slightest explanation. Her stubbornness is going to kill me."

One of the most pleasurable facts about Karen was her constant ability to create surprises. She kept alive a large amount of mystery around her life and from time to time, like a paintbrush making contact in a rainbow of colors with a white canvas, she released information; unexpectedly. The effect was unique and you were charmed by a simple but nonetheless studied way of behaving. Who knew how much of this building Stanley actually owned? Who knew how many rooms the mansion was made of? For being their lawyer Will had accessed to private notes and confidential files but he had never had the slightest knowledge of the existence of something as basic as a guest flat.

Following Rosario's indications, he arrived on a lower floor and knocked at a door. The place was still extremely calm, quiet and as nobody answered, Will turned the knob instinctively. He wasn't expecting to find the door opened but the bright light that emerged all of a sudden in front of him blinded him so much that he forgot about this detail.

The flat wasn't really spacious but extremely bright for a terrace overlooking Central Park right in front of the door entrance. The kitchen area was on your right when you entered while two linen sofas and an old wooden coffee table were on your left, surrounding a fireplace and shelves full of books. Two doors located on each side of the French windows obviously led to the bedrooms as another door, smaller and hidden next to a huge metallic lamp probably guided you to a bathroom. The colors were pale and in natural shades, giving thus a relaxing atmosphere _ a warm one _ to the place.

She was sat on the terrace, her feet up on a teak chair; her chin leaned on her knees as her gaze seemed lost in deep thoughts hidden behind the trees of the park. He stepped out but stayed on the doorframe, a hand on it; observing in silence how the breeze was making her hair fly around her face. She didn't turn around but a vague smile on her lips let Will understand that she had noticed his presence. How could she pretend not to be surprised by his visit? Her features were remaining still, peaceful.

"It's a great place to live in."

Karen nodded at her friend's remark.

"I always preferred it over the mansion. Stanley chose the decoration of our house; I chose this one."

Will made a few steps forwards and caught up the image of Karen's suitcases through the French windows leading to the bedroom on the left. The three rooms had a bright view over the terrace, forming a "U" where the sun seemed to have found an idyllic place to rest. He didn't mention the bags though and simply sat down next to her, following her gaze towards The Dakota Buildings on the other side of Central Park.

"I've been wrong about a couple of things concerning my marriage and Stanley. We have different point on views on basic things, important aspects."

It came from her.

If there was something that Will had learned about Karen it was the way she had to make the first step when something was wrong. This time wasn't an exception.

"Are you thinking about getting a divorce?"

His question caused her to giggle but the bitterness of her tone ended up dominating and so she stopped, shrugged; raised a dubitative eyebrow.

"So many things can happen in three years…"

Will was about to reply but Karen shushed him with a discreet motion of her hand. She pointed out at a bird that had landed next to them. It was a small one, colorful. She smiled and let a few minutes go by.

"I never know what they're going to think the next morning."

Her whispered remarked took Will aback but he let her go on.

"I dread their gazes on me when I don't wear makeup anymore. I will look tired and common while the cruel light of the day will emphasize the passing of time over my body and then they will realize that I'm just appearances. Their fantasy vanishes with their dreams. That's why I leave when they're still asleep. I hate the morning after. I hate its honesty."

Will looked at her, touched by the bitter sentiment that was escaping from Karen's heart and very slowly he grabbed her hand; held it tight. Still lost in the contemplation of the park she leaned her head on Will's shoulder and smiled.

"See, it wasn't really about you, honey."


	6. Obsession

**_Obsession_**

The white sugar got absorbed into the black coffee, falling straight to the bottom of the mug in a silent motion. Looking at it blankly, Will picked up his spoon and made the drink twirl around but very soon _ for whatever reason _ he began to draw Karen's name at the surface of it. The "k" vanished in the "a" as the "r" was producing new dark waves against the white china of the cup.

She had kissed him roughly and pushed him down on the armchair of his bedroom. As her tongue had been massaging his, her feet had kept on caressing his ankles. She had straddled him; he had just followed, completely unable to break apart or even less to put an end to it. It might have had crossed his mind for a couple of seconds, a vague wonder over the reasons that had led Karen to throw herself in his arms but it hadn't lasted long enough and an odd instinct had taken control of his gestures. Undressing her, kissing her neck, plunging his face in her hair; if he had had to be honest, he would have surely confessed how much he had actually enjoyed it.

But the excitement of the novelty had faded away and got substituted by a whole series of wonders, doubts and interrogations that only the passing of time could stir up. Some sounded fair enough while others clearly belonged to a nervous embarrassment. What if Karen got pregnant? Will's heart speeded up its pace. They hadn't used any condom. Was she on the pill? What was Karen's degree of trust towards Stanley about it? What were their habits? Will moved uncomfortably on his chair, panicked. He made a face. The chances were thin if not inexistent, ridiculous. But still, what if…

"What are you thinking about?"

Grace's question made Will come back abruptly to reality. He abandoned his thoughts and stared at his friend without saying anything. She raised her eyebrows, waiting obviously for an answer.

"You were making odd faces while observing your coffee, are you alright?"

"I guess so, yes."

His answer sounded as unsure as his blank gaze; his inaudible voice. He nonetheless nodded but shrugged all of a sudden and sighed, frustrated.

"I'm obsessed with Karen."

The lightness that had lit up Grace's features until now seemed to freeze and disappear in a violent motion. She remained still then blinked. What had he just done? Will looked around them instinctively. People were talking joyfully at their respective tables, enjoying their time when the own place he was sharing with his best friend had suddenly got icy. He hadn't meant to reveal the slightest thing over a situation that anyway, had been cleared off and buried for quite a while yet. The words had rushed out of his mouth without any warning, in a subtle way; unless it was just as confused as him.

Against all his expectations Grace grabbed his hand, held it tightly; smiled at him.

"Of course, you are. Stanley is in jail and for some reason she has decided to move out of the manse. You spend so much time with them since you're their lawyer. It's logical that you feel concerned. Karen thinks she's quiet but her silence is louder than a lot of words. And she's not fine, we all know that. You are preoccupied."

He didn't say a word and looked blankly at Grace. It crossed his mind then, unexpectedly; like all the rest. If anything ever happened between him and Karen, it looked like the secret would be safe, impossible to even been thought about. Nobody would ever come to have doubts.

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Obsession; it had nothing to do with preoccupation, being worried. It was more powerful and kind of addicting. It inhabited you in permanence, stole your brain and mixed it all so that your senses only came to concentrate on a single object. She opened the door at him and smiled. Karen; she was the drug that had invaded his system.

"I'm sorry but I haven't read the file yet. I will do it this evening."

Without looking at him, Karen headed straight to one of the sofas and sat down back there. A row of multicolored nail varnish bottles was sagely lined up on the coffee table, ready for a manicure. Will took off his coat and went for a glass of water in the kitchen. The night had fallen over the city and a multitude of lights was glimmering through the French windows, over the terrace.

"It's okay, take your time for this one. I need your signature for other stuff though."

The papers landed on the table by a turquoise nail varnish bottle. She barely paid attention to them but as Will's shaking fingers finally released the little box right in front of her face, Karen gasped and stared at him in disbelief.

"What is that for, honey?"

Will shrugged and cleared his voice, avoiding her eyes. The tone of his friend's voice had let him understand that she wasn't taking it very well unless she simply thought he was mad; off in the crazy fantasies of his head.

"It crossed my mind at lunchtime when I was with Grace. I don't know… Do you think… Perhaps you need it."

Very slowly Karen put back the bottle of nail varnish she was holding; stood up to face Will. Her lips were locked in a firm line as her features seemed lost in the depths of seriousness. But she looked hurt; something in her eyes.

"I know you don't have a lot of experience with women but this…"

She pointed out at the pregnancy test on the coffee table, getting some time to look for the right words.

"This is tactless, Will. I know that we didn't use any male contraceptive but it's time for you to learn that women have other ways to avoid some kinds of situations."

The end of her sentence made her blush. Will hid a smile before her obvious sweet reaction.

"So you're on the pill?"

"This is none of your business! You're not my husband. How many times will I have to say that again? What are the words you don't get in this sentence? Damn, Will! I told you it was a mistake. We should have never done it, never. Do you hear me? We're not in love; this was pure casual sex and you have no idea how I regret it."

Her voice broke into tears in the last words and she turned her back at him. She hadn't probably meant to be harsh though somehow Will couldn't help feeling hurt by her remark. He made an awkward step backwards but stopped as she started speaking again; her voice softened by a contained sincerity, a troubling one.

"I miss you so much though."

Her hazel eyes got locked with Will's brown ones as she turned around and faced him. She frowned.

"I miss your hands on me."

She said it matter-of-factly, waiting nothing but the moment he finally leant over. Will's breath was hot against her lips, bewitching. She closed her eyes and felt the brush of his kiss but all of a sudden she pushed him away and shook her head.

"I think you should leave."

She was staring at the floor, on a side; her jaw was shaking and she seemed so pale. She was tired of the perpetual fight between her mind and her heart.


	7. The flames take it all

**_The flames take it all_**

"I slept with someone."

The words resounded blank in the telephone and Karen stared at Stanley on the other side of the window, waiting for his reaction. He simply raised an eyebrow, vaguely dubitative before a smirk coming to play on his lips. He didn't say a word though and it got on her nerves.

"Are you satisfied?"

She let her mouth opened and took deep breaths. A wave of nausea was running over her heart; she didn't feel fine at all. Stanley leant over, shrugged.

"Well, I guess I should be the one to ask you that. Have you been satisfied?"

Karen couldn't help but scoff, shocked by the vulgarity the conversation was turning into. If only her anger had been able to rush out of her lips, perhaps she would have felt relieved at some point. Yelling at him, shouting out loud how his odd behavior was nothing but hurtful; it was all boiling in her veins but she remained quiet for a reason she didn't understand very well. Conflicts had always paralyzed her. She dreaded the consequences, the eventual separation and the end of a story. Being lonely wasn't a fear but a bitter fact she had had to face for too long, through her own mother's struggles and there was no way she happened to look like her. She would have died before.

"Oh come on, Karen. I told you that I was okay with that. What are you expecting from me? Do you want me to throw a fit when having sex with a third person is what I suggested to you in the first place? It doesn't make sense."

"You weren't in jail yet. It was the night just before you got arrested."

Her confession stopped Stanley for a couple of seconds until a new shrug came out.

"I don't mind. I was barely at home and if you had grown tired of waiting for me or simply felt like screwing someone else then I'm fine with it."

"But it's called infidelity. It goes against the vows I made the day of our wedding; the prenuptial contract you made me sign…"

"No I think it's more about chasing boredom, spicing up routine. I'm really okay with that. You have my blessing."

It sounded so absurd that she burst out laughing and shook her head. A part of her was angry but not even for having slept with Will or having been unfaithful, no; just because Stanley's sexism was disgusting.

"Well you know in which part of your anatomy you can put your blessing. Since when do you dictate every single one of my acts? I take my own decisions. I'm a woman, not a little girl or even less your doll. You have no right over me."

Stanley rolled his eyes, obviously pissed of by his wife's reaction. How many times had he told her that she behaved like a spoiled child? How many times had she borne his remarks about what he called 'her extravaganzas'?

"I know you're not my slave. Damn, it's not what I was saying but… It's just an affair, who really cares anyway? Life's too short. It's all about spreading your legs and reach climax, big deal."

"That's mean."

"What, are we speaking about romanticism here? I can barely imagine you getting married to some one-night stand guy and even less carrying on his children."

They froze at the same time; Karen hurt by the last part of the sentence, Stanley realizing that he had been too far and flirted with a tough subject.

"Oh Karen, I didn't mean to…"

She stood up and left.

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Someone knocked at the door. She didn't bother to stand up; anyway she was too drunk for that.

"It's open!"

Grace came in, surprised by the darkness of the flat. Karen hadn't turned on the lights and she was plunged in the shadows of the night near by a dense fireplace. She offered a glass of wine to her friend who sat down next to her before Karen turning back her hazel eyes towards the flames.

"You barely stopped by the office this week, Karen."

Karen closed her eyes and let the heat of the fire caress her face. It was soft and reassuring.

"I was thinking about a couple of things. I had appointments."

Grace put her glass down on the coffee table and grabbed her friend's hand; held it tightly.

"We're all worried about you. Please, don't think you're alone."

A bright smile lit up Karen's features as she nodded at Grace but there was way too much melancholy in her gaze.

"I know that, sweetie."

A higher flame caught up both women's attention and they looked back at the fire. All of a sudden Grace leaned over, frowning.

"What is that?"

She grabbed a darkened piece of fabric that hadn't been absorbed yet by the flames; shook her head.

"Where does it come from? Don't tell me you're burning your…"

"Yes it's my wedding dress. I just needed to turn a page."

Grace stayed speechless, completely taken aback by her friend's action. A few seconds flew away before her coming back to her senses and she nodded a bit absurdly though, disarmed.

"Listen I had this date in thirty minutes or so but…"

"No Gracie… Honey, just go, really. I'm fine, don't be worried for me. Anyway Will should be here at any moment now."

Grace left with awkwardness and uncertainty as the silence came back over the flat and Karen closed her eyes.

"Is this the right time?"

She jumped and stifled a scream as Will's voice pierced into the living-room. Very quickly she stood up and turned on the lights. She looked probably pale, if not livid.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't want to freak you out. I saw Grace in the hallway and she told me you were here… That's why I didn't knock at the door."

He accompanied his explanation with a vague gesture as she simply nodded and counted until three. She hadn't really drunk that much but felt dizzy, off. That must be why all of a sudden she rushed to him and kissed his lips roughly; her hand firmly clutched to his nape. His fingers slid on her waist and she was smiling in his mouth when she realized his next gesture.

Will pushed her away, staring at her in disbelief; a bit breathless.

"I have nothing to offer you…"

Her voice sounded unsure, shaking. She passed her tongue over her dry lips and looked up at the ceiling, waiting for the words to come out by themselves.

He had come to her twice and she had rejected him, every single time. Why would she have changed her mind now? What told her that he hadn't given up at the end? It barely crossed her mind as she kept on talking.

"I'm married and no matters how fragile my relation to Stanley is… I don't want to divorce him. I don't know why I ended up in your bed that night. It wasn't caused by anger or alcohol; drugs either. My aim is not to take advantage of you for the next three years or so; or even just for tonight… As a matter of fact and to be completely honest, I have no idea of why I'm here talking to you right now about it. It shouldn't be happening; we both know that. I can't promise you anything, Will. My intentions aren't clear except for the fact that I will still be wearing this wedding ring at the end… I'm just a girl, you know; just a girl who's been disappointed by life and joyfully surprised too, sometimes. And I don't know what the scariest part is; if it's what I'm saying now or the fact I've been thinking about nothing but you since the night you took me in your arms. This is just so wrong… And I'm lost. But please, I'd like you to consider my… Those little nothings, an incomprehensible desire that is not a whim but… I come here to ask you if you'd like to accompany me for a while. I miss the way you held me that night."


	8. Hectic life

**_Hectic life_**

Will rolled on his stomach and grabbed the pillow, plunged his face in it. The light of the day was dangerously caressing his eyes but he kept them closed, wishing nothing but to get back to sleep before his brain beginning to set off the whole process of analysis. Everything seemed slowed down, still halfway between dreams and reality. That's why it might have only taken five seconds. From the brightness of the sun passing through the window to Karen's scent on the blanket he was holding; his moan to make the night last a little longer vanished in a gasp and he sat up.

"Good morning."

Her voice had never been so soft. Huddled up on an armchair facing the bed, Karen smiled at him; brought a mug of tea to her lips. She was wearing an ankle-length, dark red cardigan that matched with the nail varnish on her tiptoes and the paleness of her skin. She hadn't put makeup on, not yet, and she looked tired; peacefully tired.

She leaned her chin on her knees, observing Will in silence. Something was making her eyes sparkle, an odd and mysterious flame.

"Hi."

"Would you like some coffee, unless you prefer tea? You can have French toasts too, whatever you like."

Will turned around but Karen anticipated his movement; approached and sat down on the mattress next to him.

"It's nine."

Her fingers slid along his quietly, lacking self-confidence. She caressed the shapes of his bones then finally pressed his hand. He looked back at her; didn't pull away.

"If you want to take a shower…"

Karen leaned over as she felt his hand on her waist. His lips were soft against hers, attentive on her wishes. She passed on top of him and broke the sensual kiss; unbuttoned her cardigan. The piece of clothing followed the curves of her body as it fell down on the bed. She tossed it on the floor, her eyes locked with Will's; then swallowed hard and waited.

His gaze was intimidating but she let him do, study the least inch of her skin under the cruel light of the day. She hated that; it made her feel too weak, vulnerable.

Very slowly Will's fingers began to travel down her neck, matching the shapes of her breasts; caressing them for a while. She leaned her head backwards and closed her eyes. She could feel his reaction against her back, still subtle but nonetheless present. A smile played on her lips and she succumbed to him.

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She heard the door get slammed and looked up in the mirror; burst into tears, her fingers clutched to the marbled countertop. It was a torrent of pain and shame, burning regrets and constantly renewed desires; so strong that she wondered how she had managed to keep it all inside for so long until he actually left.

They had made love three times; once by night and twice in the morning. Every single time she had had the sentiment that something wrong was going on for it sounding so right; just a troubling feeling probably stirred up by the exact essence of infidelity. The image of Stanley stopped by her head. Karen took off her cardigan and stepped in the shower, clenching her jaw tightly.

It wasn't even revenge, she didn't give into these things; so why?

She passed her hand over her stomach, on her inner thighs. She was having a hectic life and she didn't like that. A smile lit up her face and the memories of the night flew to her mind. No, she adored that.

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"Okay so if you click on this icon, you're going to find the sketches of the new show-room. They're all saved up, as well as every client's information from the color of the toilet paper to the budget. This is not important Karen but vital; essential."

Grace had her eyes wide opened and was pronouncing every single syllable as if it were Chinese. Karen felt slow then, vaguely insulted. Growing in boredom she stood up and went for a coffee which, of course, got her friend angry.

Two days had passed by and she hadn't even seen him; not that she felt like talking about what had happened but they hadn't settled on anything. Had it just been another one-night stand? Was she supposed to take it as the last one? Or would he fancy to see her again, a bit more?

Her tongue twirled around the spoon she was holding; a smirk played on her lips. She simply felt like screwing him.

"Do you mind very often about what is wrong and what is right, honey?"

The question surprised Grace who looked up all of a sudden, a hand still on the mouse of the computer. She blinked and frowned in confusion at Karen now sat on the edge of the desk. Her legs were balancing slowly from right to left, her skirt letting appear her pale hips. She was looking blankly in front of her, lost in her thoughts.

"Are you asking me if I have some regrets?"

"No, I want to know if sometimes you choose the bad side; no matters you know how wrong it is. It's like you can't help it or don't want to, not sure…"

"Why are you coming up with that now?"

Karen stood up back and shrugged; smiled weakly.

"Because I feel like I'm doing it all the time…"

Even the tone of her voice didn't sound right at all.


	9. The constancy of children

**_The constancy of children_**

As long as she could remember, Grace had never really seen Karen in the presence of children. She did share a house with Olivia and Mason but weirdly enough, it didn't match with the scene of motherhood, her way of life. When she thought about her friend in the intimacy of her Upper East Side mansion, all Grace managed to picture out was the slight but nonetheless evident awkwardness of two different worlds resigned to a silent face-to-face, a vague ignorance towards each other. It was still better than a confrontation.

She would have never imagined that Karen could have cared about Stanley's children, spent time with them; laughing, playing. There was no interaction between the harsh and scandalous reality of the dark-haired woman and the innocence of childhood. Nothing indicated the exact opposite, especially not Karen herself who seemed to find a certain confidence in the image of a mysterious and vaguely heartless person.

That's why Grace remained still, perplexed and astonished while passing the door of her friend's flat on a Saturday afternoon. Her eyes had caught up the stroller in the first place, parked along the countertop of the kitchen. The item looked lost, at the wrong place near the bottles of alcohol stocked upper on the shelves. The living-room was empty but all of a sudden Karen's voice had pierced the air and Grace had looked up, following instinctively the sound of the laughter. It came from the terrace where the millionaire was playing with a toddler as an adult who looked a lot like the millionaire was observing them, a smile on his lips.

Something had changed in Karen; a sort of transparent detail that stopped Grace for a while until she understood the exact essence of it. Karen seemed fine, light; relaxed. Her features had softened and her smile sounded fair, honest.

"Who is it?"

Barely breaking eye-contact with the unexpected scene, Grace asked Olivia as the teenager headed out of the bathroom. The mere presence of Stanley's daughter in the room was incomprehensible but not as much as Karen twirling around with the giggling little boy.

"The man is Brian, Karen's brother."

"Who is the baby?"

Olivia seemed surprised and raised a dubitative eyebrow at Grace but nonetheless answered.

"It's Tom. He's Karen's nephew…"

Her sentence had got wrapped in a tone of extreme evidence as if she had only been describing the blueness of the sky in the middle of August. Obviously Grace's blankness took her aback.

"I thought you were close to my step-mother. It looks like I know more about her than you do."

Grace frowned and shook her head in a vain attempt to come back to reality and pretend that life was going on, on a normal basis.

"Oh we are. We are close… She just stays incredibly quiet over her relatives, for whatever reason."

"Karen's a weirdo. Well, not really; I guess she has complexes that's all.'

At this exact moment the millionaire turned around and finally saw Grace. She didn't seem to hesitate or hide anything. She waved joyfully at her friend from the terrace then grabbed the baby's hand to imitate her own gesture; kissed his cheek.

"It sounds so right…"

The words escaped from her lips and before she realized it, Grace's remark echoed in the living-room through a troubled whisper. Olivia nodded; lightly laughed.

"I know. It's the latest thing we would expect from her but she's actually great with Tom; with Mason and I too as a matter of fact…"

The teenager's voice lowered in a dark thought as her own words took her away in the difficult patch she was going through right now; her father's incarceration. She sighed and smiled brightly, burying very deep any trace of bitterness; then shrugged and added.

"She says it's okay but I know that somewhere, deep inside, she must be hurting a lot for not being able to have her own child."

Waiting for a nod from Grace, Olivia turned her face and looked at the interior designer but her eyes suddenly widened before the absence of reaction. Her heart began to beat faster as an icy wave of panic spread over her body. She made a step backwards and shook her head.

"Oh my God… I thought you knew."

The words rushed to Grace's brain before getting lost in a quick analyze but only incomprehension resulted from the process. She blinked and stared at Karen's step-daughter; swallowed hard.

"I… Well…"

The words were stuck in her brain, unable to make their way to her lips in a coherent articulation. Time seemed to slow down before she finally managed a sentence; minutes flew away unless they were seconds disguised as longer notes of silence.

"She's so secretive. She never says a lot about her own feelings."

Karen opened the French window, putting an abrupt end to the awkward conversation between Olivia and Grace.

"Well honey… Don't you want to meet the man of my life? Say hi to Gracie, Tom…"

She repeated the waving gesture with her nephew's hand. The toddler giggled and leaned over to plant an approximate kiss on her cheek. Why did some scene sound so unnaturally logical? Why did unexpected events hit you so hard? Perhaps it was a way to warn you about life and how important opening our eyes was. Grace smiled softly, timidly before finally making a step forward towards her friend.

Perhaps it was time to listen a bit more about Karen's silent gaze and find at last the secrets of her soul.


	10. Settling down on absolutely nothing

**_Settling down on absolutely nothing_**

Olivia's awkward confession had turned a page over an illusion that for a very long time Grace had thought true, realistic enough. She had spent a large amount of time _throughout the day, over the night _ analyzing every single gesture or word from her friend that she hadn't paid attention to until then. And the conclusion had been harsh, bitter if not shameful. She had never tried to understand Karen.

Everybody tended to hide some things, difficult secrets safer in the sphere of silence; too hard to confess. Being frank didn't mean saying it all so why had she finally come to imagine that it was different with Karen? It didn't make sense, was completely absurd and all Grace managed to do now was bite the inside of her mouth not to apologize and please Karen's heart to open trustfully to her mind.

She was observing her now, getting caught up from time to time by a feigned confused Karen who used to raise an interrogative eyebrow and smirk, waiting quietly for the reason why she was the center of an odd attention. But Grace didn't dare and the words plunged back in the depths of her head.

The silence reigning over the car was heavy and remorseful but nobody felt like speaking for feeling way too guilty; on their own, distinctive problems that at the end only led to the same sentiment of failure and injustice. Like in some sort of vaudeville they had all stormed out, one by one, angry against their relatives and Thanksgiving was getting a turn a lot more bitter than what they had expected the exact morning.

The window produced a shrieking noise as Karen opened it a bit to let the smoke of her cigarette go out. Leaned against the door she was staring blankly at the streets of some monotone suburban landscape with its grass cut to perfection and the rows of houses that looked exactly the same ones like in a weird dream flirting with the essence of nightmares. She had always hated suburbs. They were the exact symbol of a depressing existence, nothing to do with the boiling rhythm of the heart of the city.

She was culprit for a lot of different reasons; for having slept with Will, for feeling so angry towards herself but putting it all on Stanley, for every single visit she spent at the jail ending up in a cold and illogical argument. Why did he always have to insist on her so-called freedom to have sex with a third person? It was all he mentioned as soon as they both picked up their phones and started a dead-end conversation. Was it his way to get punished for what he had done? Strangely enough they had never advanced the question before. Who did anyway? Obviously infidelity didn't match with the concept of marriage. It was implicit.

She bent over to abandon her cigarette in the ashtray. Her shoulder brushed Will who was driving. She glanced at him furtively but he stayed concentrated on the road. He hadn't come back, hadn't called and when they happened to share a face-to-face, they headed straight to business contracts and the evolution of Walker Inc. Two weeks had passed by and none of them had made the slightest allusion to their blurry situation. She leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the well-known pain of a regular stomachache.

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"It's cold outside."

Karen turned around and shrugged at Grace; smiled softly.

"I don't mind. After all these houses and flags I need the bricks, all dirty, and the anonymity of Manhattan. My patriotism always plays some tricks on Thanksgiving. I wish America weren't so American sometimes."

The situation had finally come back not to normal but a vague, understandable if not acceptable logic. They had all apologized and made their way to Will's flat. The parade was over now and the streets were emptying slowly as the smell of turkey escaped from the doors of the buildings in a peculiar harmony. She brought her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip. The truth was that she was hungry now. It hadn't happened for a while. She looked through the French windows at Rosario and Will, active in the kitchen. Grace followed her gaze before looking down at the ground.

"Are you okay, Karen? I know you're going through a bad patch but if you feel the need to speak… Don't forget that I'm here."

The remark let her perplexed; touched but nonetheless troubled. She was about to reply when Jack opened widely the door of the terrace and announced that the meal was ready. She came back inside and forgot about Grace's words.

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Karen put back the interphone on its base and turned around, her gaze getting lost in a blank contemplation of the living-room. Her heart always tended to start beating faster when the doorman announced Will. It stirred up embarrassment, hope and resignation because at the end he only took out of his briefcase an impressive pile of papers to sign, contracts to accept. She opened the door absent-mindedly, anticipating his arrival but didn't wait for him. She went back to the room on the right of the terrace, the one she had transformed into a sort of office even though she preferred the word 'workshop'. It sounded softer. She sat at an oak, tiny table and tried to concentrate on her previous activity but all she could focalize on was the way the carpet of the corridor would stifle his steps until his voice finally pierced a few steps from her.

She passed a hand through her hair and looked at her watch. It was late and she was tired; not really in the mood for a business meeting.

"Are you there?"

She stood up quickly and rolled her eyes before her reflection in the mirror, erasing immediately the silly smile that played on her lips. She straightened subconsciously her top and entered the living-room.

"I had forgotten you were supposed to stop by here tonight."

"I wasn't."

His reply took her aback and she scanned the room quickly. His briefcase was nowhere to be seen. She made a few steps forward, blushed; looked down. Her cardiac rhythm crossed some usual limit.

"Well… Would you like some drink?"

Will remained silent and only shook his head. His eyes were fixed on her. She could feel the weight of his gaze over her face. It was intimidating.

"Then would you like… Would you like something to eat? I have leftovers: Chinese, Italian…"

He kept on shaking his head, came closer to her. She swallowed hard, blinked. Why was she so timid? She was making a fool of herself when his intentions were clear. She shrugged and realized that her hand was clutched to her top in a nervous motion.

"Vietnamese?"

His hand slid on her neck. His thumb caressed her jaw and made her freeze. He kissed her chin, made a step forward and placed his other hand on her waist. She stayed still, let him do. His breath was warm on her skin, protective. His lips finally captured hers and she closed her eyes, succumbing to the embrace; deepening the kiss.

She had missed him.


	11. The art of speaking

**_The art of speaking_**

What Karen liked the most was the interlude between their orgasm and the moment they would separate, come back to their respective lives. The ecstasy of the feelings was slowly going away and like a leaf that would have flown in the sky, they were landing back _ smoothly _ into the shades of their reality; on the ground. She used to close her eyes by then, tighten her grip on him and steal his hectic breath while her chest was brushing his in a peculiar rhythm. A hand on his nape, the other lost in the curves of his back, she pushed him even closer to her and smiled.

They never spoke. After Will's long absence during a couple of weeks he had finally come back every night to held her, caress her skin; kiss her flesh and make her his. But without a word; they almost avoided each other's gaze until the moment they would find themselves in bed as if they were ashamed and didn't dare to face the preludes of their affair. He didn't go away immediately after though. Once he had even fallen asleep and stayed till the next morning. Most of the times they just laid there, in a peaceful embrace, and let the time go by taken away by a serene silence.

It wasn't right and they knew it, felt guilty but for whatever reason all they were secretly waiting for was the moon substituting the sun and under the shadows of the night the scandal of their acts almost tended to disappear, hidden by stifled moans and deep sighs. It was like coming back to life after a long period of a dry lethargy and they nourished their souls with each other's smell, each other's taste. But what scared the most Karen at the end was the fact it didn't seem as creepy as a love affair when it was all it was supposed to be.

She rolled on her stomach and leaned up on her knee, her hip brushing his inner thigh. Her hazel eyes looked for his brown ones, found them; she caressed his lips. Why were they so quiet? She bent over and kissed him in a sweet attempt but his hand traveled up her hair and he pulled her closer, deepening the embrace. She passed on top of him but finally broke apart; looked around her. They had turned on one of the lamps of the bedside tables but the light was fragile and pale, barely punctuating the darkness of the night. She got up, grabbed his blouse and put it on, leaving the room.

"I'm thirsty. Do you want something?"

Of course he shook his head. He always did as soon as she offered him the slightest thing. Sometimes a sound escaped from his lips to accompany his negative response but most of the times it was just a silent sign, a vague movement of his head. Perhaps he was just a quiet guy, a bit lost in his thoughts; adoring his fantasies and living on his own. She had had a lot of men, more or less alike after sex. They fell asleep or began to speak randomly but Will was the first one who preferred silence over absurd discussions and frustrating self-centered activities.

Karen opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.

"Do you have an aspirin? I have a slight headache."

She turned around and nodded as the coolness of the drink slid along her throat.

"Check in my bag among the bottles of pills. I guess I'm running out of them in the bathroom."

"You are. I just checked."

She stared at him going for her Chanel abandoned on one of the sofas and taking out of it every single bottle meticulously. Would they necessarily reach the explanatory stage of their odd relationship? She wasn't sure she was ready or felt like alluding to it. It was just fuzzy, incomprehensible but extremely warm.

Will finally approached her, pill in hand. He picked up her bottle of water and gulped down the medicine.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She narrowed her eyes at him but nonetheless nodded; timidly. She didn't like all these paraphrases that only made people waste their time and freak out too as a matter of fact. She leaned on the countertop and looked at him, waiting.

He took another sip of water and tried to sweep away through a heavy sigh his obvious embarrassment.

"Are you on the pill?"

She couldn't help rolling her eyes in exasperation but she didn't want to argue and so she swallowed back her latent anger.

"What's your problem with contraception, Will?"

"There's no birth control pill in your bathroom, in your bag either. We haven't used any condom so…"

"I could have an IUD…"

"Do you?"

Karen took back the bottle from his hands and headed aimlessly towards the living-room area, escaping from nothing but the tensed atmosphere spreading over them; stirred up by Will's curiosity. She let herself fall down on the couch and looked blankly at the fireplace.

"No, I don't. I'm clean though, you don't have to worry. And I trust you; that's why I didn't ask you for a condom."

"But what about…"

She cut him off with a nervous gesture of her hand; shook her head.

"I won't get pregnant."

Intrigued by the lack of sense of Karen's replies, Will made his way towards her but stayed up; frowned.

"How can you be sure of that if you don't use any contraceptive?"

The logic of his question hit her more than what she would have recognized and she looked down; blinked to push away the weight of invisible tears. Her hair caressed her face as she turned around quickly and locked her eyes with his.

"I don't feel like speaking, Will. I'm sorry."

Perhaps they were simply made for silent caresses.


	12. Silent night

**_Silent night_**

The skates released a light cloud of little ice diamonds, caressing the ankle in a sensual motion as Olivia twirled around and stopped abruptly in front of Karen. The teenager smiled at her stepmother and pointed at the rink, asking quietly for an acolyte. Karen scoffed and burst out laughing before shaking her head vigorously. She made an instinctive step backwards and took a sip of her coffee; the drink warming up her cold body while sliding along her throat. Olivia shrugged then went away in a fluid movement to catch up Mason who was having fun on the other end of the white place. They looked happy as they hadn't been for a very long while, relieved and innocent as they were still supposed to be though. Karen smiled while observing them from the firm ground she was standing up on but for whatever reason, as if her brain had to ruin it all within a second, Stanley's last words oppressed her lungs and made her frown.

_"They miss you."_

_"It's not a place for kids."_

He might have been in search of a self-punishment though by not allowing his own children to visit him at the jail all Stanley was doing was causing incomprehension and pain to Olivia and Mason. They had come back to their mother's by some tricks of a couple of millions but it didn't erase from their minds the absence of their father. And it wasn't fair. Karen sipped slowly her drink, trying to drown her anger in the black coffee. She didn't understand how people could waste so much time ignoring each other while they were still alive. What would happen once they would die? They would probably realize, a bit too late, how they had been so wrong all along.

A hand slid along her waist and came to rest on her lower back. She froze, vaguely shivered before looking at Will furtively. She didn't move away from his touch though; perhaps even wished a bit more. Her feet reduced the distance between the two of them in an invisible motion and she leaned against him, restraining the urge to make it public and sound more serious. Her shoulder was brushing his chest when she could feel his breath caress her cheek in a fake, innocent closeness.

Mason waved at her. She smiled back at him and followed with her eyes his awkward movements. He wasn't good at ice-skating but seemed to enjoy it a lot and that was all that matter at the end. His body wasn't shaped for any kind of exercise that required grace and lightness but the honesty of his smile made you melt and you had to recognize then how cute he was.

"Where are they?"

Still looking at Stanley's son, Karen waited for Will's reply. He had gone away with Grace and Jack twenty minutes earlier but had finally come back alone. It probably explained his attentive gesture towards her. There was nothing to dread when their friends weren't around even if to be completely honest, the subtlety of their movements was such that it would have passed unnoticed anyway.

"Grace is talking to some guy near the donuts area and Jack is in awe before the windows store of Abercrombie."

"Classic… I wonder why I even asked it."

"Would you like a romantic picture of you two under the Christmas tree? Such a cute couple can't resist…"

The remark made both friends jump and turn around. A photographer was grinning at them, cam in hands; ready to immortalize the exact detail of what Will and Karen made their best to hide. They shook their heads, embarrassed as a bright red invaded their cheeks and they got lost in mumbles of an incomprehensible explanation. Grace arrived at this exact moment and stared at the three people with confusion.

"What did I miss?"

The photographer looked at her and smiled before pointing out at an ashamed Karen.

"It looks like the lady here is too shy to have her picture taken with her husband."

It took Grace a couple of seconds, a sort of retrocession and analyze of every single word before finally bursting out laughing. She raised an eyebrow, shook her head at the artist.

"I know it's Christmas but still, don't put too many hopes in miracles; as weird as this one would be."

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"Merry Christmas…"

Karen frowned and looked in disbelief at the dark red velvet box Will was tending to her. They had celebrated and proceeded to the gift ceremony on Christmas Eve, two days earlier; with Grace and Jack. Then they had all gone the next morning to share the traditional meal with their respective families; Karen had ordered Chinese and stayed home all along after having visited Stanley.

She moved uncomfortably on the sofa, unsure of the way she was supposed to react before Will's gesture. It was December, 26th and they both knew that he hadn't stopped by for the signature of some contracts.

"But you already…"

"This is different. This is… This is ours, you know."

She couldn't help but smile before his light embarrassment. It was nice, cute. She put down the glass of wine she had been sipping until he had passed the door of her flat and took the box; opened it. Her eyes widened as a frank panic spread over her. She stared at Will, waiting for an explanation.

"Of course it's not a proposal, Karen. I'm not that stupid… After my high-school graduation, the day I was about to leave for Manhattan, my mother came into my bedroom and she gave it to me. It belonged to her grandmother, then her mother and for whatever reason she thought I would make a better use of it than my brothers ever would. This was before I kind of came out but she never asked it back. I mentioned it yesterday to her and she hadn't forgotten about it but she said it was mine and one day I would offer it to a woman who meant something special to me… I haven't been involved with Grace the way I am with you right now and it sounds fair, logical, that this ring becomes yours because I know that you will be the only woman I will ever take in my arms and be so close to. Perhaps one day you will give it to Olivia or who knows, your own daughter. But please, don't refuse it."

It seemed that a soft, velvet glove had come to rest over her neck and prevented her from breathing but in an addicting motion, a sensual one. She didn't even pay attention to the reference of a utopian motherhood. Her eyes were fixed on the platinum ring which delicate and subtle shapes matched her own tiny frame. It was a very simple jewel but probably the most beautiful one she had ever seen. The grandeur of beauty remained in the quietness of elegance and the ring was the exact symbol of it. Will grabbed her right hand and slid it on her finger. But Karen didn't move as if the band had all of a sudden turned her flesh in a statue of ice.

"Are you going to say something?"

She shook her head before locking her eyes with his. A bright smile lit up her face slowly and she finally leaned over to capture his lips in a deep kiss.

They made love on the couch, their bare flesh warmed up by the flames of the fireplace and the sweet murmurs of their sighs getting lost in the night. Will only left the next morning, no matter he hadn't even fallen asleep.


	13. A wish and what we have

**_The difference between a wish and what we have_**

It didn't spin around but she had clearly lost her natural balance and the world seemed to have slowed down, got a different shade; a bit smooth. It wasn't even eleven in the morning yet but alcohol had already poisoned her blood and absorbed her brain cells in a silent and fake innocence. Drinking wasn't a way to forget but the gesture had simply turned into a blank, mechanical habit like a good-night kiss and nobody really wondered anymore why it was part of a routine. She sat down at her desk, closed her eyes behind her sunglasses. Her heart was pounding loud, hitting against her temples. Was she having a headache? It hadn't happened since college but to be completely honest, she hadn't seen the bottles get empty this time; it had just been glass after glass, for whatever reason.

"How is Tom?"

Karen hadn't expected the slightest conversation. Like a sort of symbol, the dark veil covering her eyes indicated that she was definitely not in the mood for any explanation. Her hand brushed her sunglasses but the bright light of the day made her go back in retreat and she kept them on.

"He's nice, thank you for asking."

Grace dropped out her pen and stood up from her stool. Her face was expressionless but her eyes owned this little sparkle that highlighted an extreme curiosity. Karen swallowed hard.

"Why did you not tell us about him before?"

"I didn't know about him. I mean… I knew he was but I hadn't met him. My brother lives in China. He was just stopping by the day you came home."

Obviously it took Grace aback and Karen allowed herself to get a deep breath, knowing perfectly that the conversation was far from being over. For a couple of seconds she regretted to have come to the office but Will hadn't spent the night at her place and ridiculously enough, she hadn't seen the point to stay at home then. Perhaps she should have visited Stanley instead.

Grace approached the tiny desk and let her fingers wander along the edge of it. Her movement stopped abruptly as she locked her eyes with her friend's ones and let the words come out.

"When did you know that you would never have a child?"

When she was six years old, some guys of the neighborhood had grabbed her by her feet, her arms, and put her down in the snow. She had thought she was about to die of freezing as the cold had invaded her body quickly, in an atrocious and fatal embrace; burning her bones, passing underneath her flesh. Years had passed by but the question coming from Grace seemed to have stirred up the exact same sentiment. Karen froze, frowned at her friend: wondering for a couple of seconds how she had got to know about her heavy secret. Obviously her features were transparent enough and Grace shook her head.

"Olivia told me about it. Well, she thought I knew… Don't be angry with her."

"I'm not."

Karen's voice sounded low all of a sudden, not blank but false; tired and hurt. She took off her sunglasses in a violent gesture, winced at the light but stayed concentrated.

"A couple of years ago I thought I was pregnant. It turned out to be a false alert and as it wasn't the first time, I decided to have further checkups. My mother got German measles when she was expecting me…"

She didn't need to finish her explanation. Grace's reaction sounded evident enough and Karen smiled softly, almost to apologize for something she had no hold over. She shrugged, rolled her eyes in a dramatic motion but the gesture didn't get the expected effect. She was too hurt.

"People have more important problems."

"I'm so sorry…"

"No! You see, this is the exact reason why I stay quiet over it, Grace. I don't want people to apologize for something they don't control. Their sorry is not going to change anything but perhaps make them feel a bit more comfortable with their own consciousness and it's disgusting. I'm in the front row of the problem and I have to learn how to deal with it by myself."

Her request was pretty fair but as the images of Tom in Karen's arms came back to her mind, Grace couldn't abdicate so easily. She frowned, bit her lower lip and pushed away her fears to hurt her friend.

"Have you ever thought about adoption yet?"

Karen tightened her lips, blinked at her. The silence became uncomfortable and so she sighed heavily before shaking her head, exasperated.

"Just because I am a woman doesn't mean that I have to become a mother. I like children. I enjoy being with them but I don't feel the need to have some on my own. Olivia and Mason might not be biologically mine but I do care a lot about them and it's all I know. Besides what kind of parents would Stanley and I would be? The father's in jail and the mother spends her night having her way in someone else's arms! What kind of image is…"

The words probably got suspended in the air before they hit her mind and she stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence, her eyes widened by the panic of her confession. Very slowly she looked at Grace who was staring at her in disbelief. She had to say something but her voice had lost its way to her lips and she was there, sat down on her chair; unable to move or say the slightest thing.

"Are you having an affair?"

Instinctively Karen shook her head but her gesture didn't match with her sudden confession and it only made Grace frown a bit more, asking quietly for an explanation.

What if for once she was honest, with herself and the rest of the world? Would the situation really get worse? Her tongue clasped against her teeth; she swallowed hard.

"It's what Stanley asked me in the first place but it's not an affair. I wish it were, somehow, because it's actually more intense."

"Are you in love?"

"No, of course not! It's just… It's just different."

Her reply came to crash miserably in the wall of her confusion and she stayed there, looking blankly at Grace; wondering whom she had tried to convince at the end.

Jack came in and the conversation stopped.


	14. The silence of the brain

**_The silence of the brain  
_**

She hadn't had enough time to think about resolutions for the new year that yet everything seemed to have been falling apart. The first days of January had weighed heavily upon her shoulders unless her anger had simply crossed the limits of her so fragile patience and she had stormed out, literally.

Firstly with Stanley during one of her numerous visits but for their arguments having turned into a sad routine for quite a while, she had forgotten the reason why she had hung up the phone harshly, leaving in a deep and cold silence the federal jail on a Wednesday afternoon. Then Jack had got on her nerves and they hadn't seen each other for a whole week. She was the one to blame this time but she didn't feel like recognizing it; not because of her well-known pride but because at the end she enjoyed her sudden loneliness and needed time for herself, far from everyone. She hadn't come by to the office since her conversation with Grace about her sterility and most of all, the awkward and subconscious confession over her adultery. She didn't even know if she would ever be able to face her friend again and accept, resigned, the meaningful gaze that would summarize it all in a lousy silence. Olivia and Mason had been sent to a boarding school lost in the mountains of Vermont and the truth was that she was missing them a lot more than what she would have expected; no matter the weekly phone calls supposed to make their absence bearable.

The last one left was Will. His firm had signed contracts with new, important clients and so he spent a lot of time at the office, skipping lunch and having late night dinners while coming back home a few minutes before midnight. The rhythm was wearing him out and so he hadn't stopped by her flat for a long time. Somehow it was better like that because there would have been no reason for him to escape from her uncontrollable bitterness towards life. At least she hadn't argued with him, as curiously as it was. When they used to do it all the time in a light tone, Will turned out to be the only one Karen actually would never fight with in the seriousness of life.

The realization of such idea made her smile but the weight of all the rest didn't make it last that long. Her lips found back a firm and painful line as her eyes kept focalized on the skyline of The Upper West Side far in front of her. Perhaps it was just time for the four friends to grow apart. The idea didn't seem right though.

"I knocked on the door but nobody answered so I came in."

Karen let escape a frank scream as she jumped from the deckchair she was laid on and turned around, a hand over her chest. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her quick heartbeats.

"Oh boy, you want to kill me or what?"

Will smiled apologetically and sat down on the edge of the teak chair. He looked at Central Park for a couple of seconds but he seemed embarrassed, vaguely scared as if he dreaded Karen's reaction that would follow his next sentence.

"We miss you a lot, you know."

Her features softened immediately and she sighed, rolling her eyes; shrugged.

"It's not against any of you. I just feel like being alone right now, having time for myself to think about some things and… Have you ever felt the urge to sit down and stop everything for a while, just to have a look at your life?"

Will nodded in silence and let her go on. Her gray cardigan had slid down her arm, revealing the black strap of her bra but she didn't seem to care. She had tied up her hair in an approximate bun, had put her glasses on; barely wore makeup. Her appearances had been put in a second category in the scale of importance.

"Then you probably understand why I have been staying here those past few days. This place is so peaceful and the view breathtaking. From all the cities I have visited and lived in New York is the only one that managed to keep alive a bewitching sensation as soon as I look at it. From Chinatown to The Cloisters, passing by Coney Island, each place owns a singular image that reminds me of… I can't have children. That's why I don't use any contraceptive."

Her hazel eyes were locked with his brown ones. She hadn't meant in the first place to tell Will about it unless her beating about the bush over the description of the city had simply delayed the moment she would release her fearful secret.

Will seemed astonished, taken away by a sudden perplexity that would have stolen the mechanism of his natural reactions. And so he stayed there, perfectly still; quiet.

"It's caused by an illness my mother caught when she was expecting me and as the risks were pretty high I remained in the hospital for four months and a half as soon as I was born. They didn't find anything by then and the truth is that we forgot about it; especially when we started traveling all over the country. It's a malformation which only sequel is my infertility. Apart from that I'm okay."

"And there is no treatment?"

The question surprised Karen a lot. She had only told about her problem to a couple of other people but Will had been the first one who hadn't apologized and she almost felt like thanking him for that. She shook her head before looking up at the sky.

"You see, I always thought that I was terribly common at the end…"

"Karen, you are the antonymous of commonness. Your whole life proves it from the day you left home at sixteen to…"

The remark made her burst out laughing. She leaned her head on a side and frowned sweetly at Will.

"All the things I have ever lived belong to a classic scheme of existence. I lost my father when I was a child but unfortunately I'm not the only one. Then I had a hectic way of life and spent my time arguing with my mother, like every single teenager. Yes I did go away from home but give me the name of a kid who has never thought about doing that. Besides I ended up at my aunt's house because I didn't know where to go to and I got on well with her. My mother accepted the deal and I stayed there, three streets away from my supposed real house in The Queens. Then I went to college and graduated. I met someone and we got married… He happened to die but anyway I was already focused on Stanley. Now tell me what is so extraordinary about that. It's just a series of events, related by some logic that determines the person I am. The rest is breeze."

She grabbed the mug put down preously on the ground and took a sip; shook her head before looking blankly in front of her.

"And now I can't have children. So I'm not common at the end but actually useless. Isn't it fair then that I come to wonder why I've been put on Earth in the first place?"

Her own words made her gasp. She had never dared to even allow her brain to think about it, even less say it out loud. She rushed in Will's arms and held him tightly against her, burying her face in his neck. She closed her eyes, murmured.

"Don't leave me now."


	15. Marilyn

**_Marilyn_**

"Are you alright?"

Clutched to his back Karen nodded weakly but it wasn't even the fact that she was desperately trying to catch back her breath; her whole body was shaking, from her legs to her lips as her eyes were sweeping the room in a constant movement from right to left. Still on top of her Will didn't dare to move and passed his hands over her hips. A confused smile lit up his face; he frowned.

"But you're shaking."

She closed her eyes and pushed him even closer, tightened her grip over his flesh. She didn't want him to go away, to make the first step towards the separation of their bodies as if the hope that the experienced strength would come back to her over and over in an eternal motion had got control of her brain; no matter how absurd it was.

"I'm fine."

She planted a kiss through his hair and smiled brightly as he collapsed on her and she felt the weight of his body caress her skin, embrace her soul of its heat. It had been sudden but most of all extremely strong and her orgasm had literally stolen her breath, for the very first time in her life. She had felt the world stumble and a burning wave of pleasure irradiate her blood, rush through her arteries; blowing her mind in ecstasy. Even now her voice seemed to have difficulties to slide out of her lips.

She kissed his temple one more time; the gesture made him laugh lightly. She usually didn't give any kiss once it was over as if the blinding adrenalin set off by their sexual desires flew away absorbed by their respective climaxes and she realized then that she was naked against her friend Will. It was always an awkward moment during which none of them really dared to make the slightest move towards each other, no eye-contact. A couple of minutes passed by before them finding back a sort of acceptable logic, not so shameful, and they closed the parenthesis of their furtive intimacy through a long, quiet embrace. But for some reason this time Karen felt the urge to cover him of kisses.

Reluctantly she let him do as he moved between her legs and rolled on his back but his hand stayed on her waist. Her fingers brushed his lips, making him lock his eyes with hers. They smiled.

"There's something I want to ask you… My mother organizes some family reunion tomorrow and I would like you to be there, with me."

Instinctively Karen took some distance with Will and moved backwards, a bit further on the bed. His request caused a whirl of perplexity to set off in her head. She frowned at him but he anticipated her question.

"I don't want Grace but you."

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The journey to Will's parents got wrapped in an odd silence. As planned both friends had left Manhattan in the morning but with apprehension and the weight of a sleepless night for Karen. She had been wondering a lot about the evolution of their relation; the way it didn't sound right at all. Having a lover was a thing but getting closer to him was insane; not that she had something to lose in this story anyway. She wouldn't divorce Stanley and life would get back to normal as soon as he would be released from jail.

"I'm deeply sorry for the last events that touched your marriage, dear."

Karen smiled at Will's mother and nodded politely, vaguely amused. Marilyn had always appeared like a funny, incongruous woman to her eyes and for the blonde not matching that much with the standards of the neighborhood, she liked her a lot. Sometimes Karen felt like she was looking in a mirror: all this alcohol and the hidden distress in her eyes. She wished she could have hugged her and whispered that everything would be alright.

Marilyn grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured a generous amount in two glasses. The conversations held in the living-room were reaching the kitchen through thousand of murmurs, a cacophony of sounds that had the merits to be warm, reassuring to the ear.

"So how have you been coping with it? I know how gossip can appear so quickly as soon as this kind of thing happens."

"I don't really get it as a matter of fact."

A bright smile played on Karen's lips as an instinctive reaction not to burst into tears. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and shrugged apologetically.

Marilyn tended a glass to Karen and winced almost mischievously.

"Lord knows why marriage exists!"

Karen glanced at the door that separated both rooms and for a couple of seconds she wondered why Marilyn had asked her to come in the kitchen in the first place. Obviously there was no dish to carry, no bottle to bring to the table. What had Will exactly told his mother about her? Grace was the usual guest when she was only the occasional one. Her heart quickened and she swallowed hard but Marilyn didn't seem to notice and she raised her glass in the air.

"Let's bring a toast to desperate marriages!"

Karen followed the gesture with enthusiasm and emptied her glass but stopped abruptly as she noticed Marilyn's eyes fixed on her right hand. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that she was wearing the ring. She hid her fingers immediately and stared at Will's mother, paralyzed by the situation. Someone called Marilyn from the living-room.

"Yes I'm coming!"

Her voice had sounded so perfectly controlled that for a second Karen wondered if the blonde didn't fool people even more about her so-called happiness. Marilyn made a few steps towards the door but stopped and turned around to look at Karen. She was troubled, vaguely in shock.

"Just take care of him, take care of my son… The ring suits you very well."

Marilyn disappeared in a whisper, leaving Karen alone in the kitchen. A couple of minutes passed by before the dark-haired woman finally joining back Will's relatives; as soon as she did, Marilyn approached her, accompanied by some woman in her fifties.

"Amanda, I would like to introduce you… Karen is Will's friend."

"Oh, nice to meet you… You must be really important because it's the first time I ever come to meet one of Will's girlfriends."

Karen smiled timidly, not paying too much attention to the fact that Will's sexuality had obviously not been revealed to everyone. What surprised her the most resulted to be Marilyn's reply.

"She's family and will always be."

It had sounded so sincere.


	16. Of men and machines

_**Of men and machines**_

Her fingers pinched the ring and made it twirl on the table. A metallic sound accompanied the gesture as the jewel seemed to turn into a white marble under the trick of the speed. She stopped it abruptly, the palm of her hand stifling the full contact between the band and the piece of wood. She closed her eyes.

It had been raining for a whole week now and the gray of the sky looked heavy, menacing above New York as if the thunder of some tragedy was boiling in the depths of a subterranean world, ready to explode out at any moment. She shouldn't be thinking, just enjoying the basic pleasure he gave her whenever he started undressing her, kissing her neck; pressing her waist between his fingers. It would probably be different if he hadn't been her friend in the first place and the odd sentiment of closeness that inhabited her soul would have never showed up then. Casualness, crude and anonymous gestures; these were the elements of a love affair and certainly not a ring or the silent satisfaction to be mistaken for his girlfriend.

Marilyn had guessed, Grace knew about her unfaithful behavior and as much as Jack stayed quiet, he surely had some doubts but why did they all not protest? Why did they accept it with a disturbing logic when she could barely look at her reflection in a mirror for feeling so guilty? She wished they could say something, vaguely complain or point out how wrong it was. She needed to hear it was time to put an end to it. But nobody did and Karen kept on seeing Will.

"I love you."

The unexpected sound of his voice broke down her thoughts and she came back to reality through the softness of a shy smile; plunged her eyes in his blue ones. She leaned over the table, reducing to a mere couple of inches the distance between her face and Jack's then planted a kiss on his lips and caressed his cheek.

"What are you thinking about, beauty?"

Her laughter filled the living-room with the lightness of the simplest pleasures, tiny details that had passed once into the sphere of normality and that people tended unfairly to forget. Karen narrowed her eyes, bit her lower lip; frowned.

"I just wonder why it's so complicated."

"Listen to your heart."

The remark made Karen feel uncomfortable; scared. She passed back the ring on her finger and stood up, heading aimlessly towards the kitchen. She grabbed a plate, looked at it blankly before putting it back on the countertop. Jack wasn't supposed to be serious. He was there to entertain her and from time to time tell her how wrong she was; that she was going too far. She hated it when nobody advanced the idea of her own mistakes.

"I think I'm going to visit Olivia and Mason this weekend. Would you like to come with me?"

And one more time the attempt of a conversation had failed.

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She sat on his lap and locked her hazel eyes with his brown ones. The contact of his hands on her waist made her shiver and swallow hard. The flames crackled loudly in the fireplace. She turned around furtively to look at it but went back very soon to Will. She took off her top, unhooked her bra; waited. The passing of the piece of clothing by her head had messed up her hair a bit, their previous kisses swollen her lips; she looked sexy. His fingers traveled up from her stomach to her breasts. She arched her back and pushed him closer to her, grabbing his nape; her head leaned backwards. The phone rang in the background but she didn't pay attention to it and let the answering machine save the message.

Her face was buried in Will's neck, sucking the fine skin there when the voice leaving a message suddenly hit her mind; the words made her freeze.

The journey to the jail seemed to last an eternity unless it was just the required time for her to fully resent her punishment and the pain stirred up by it. They arrived around one in the morning when the corridors were plunged in the dark, coldly silent. Weirdly enough she stayed extremely calm and followed politely, probably a bit intimidated, the nurse that had been waiting for her to come up. The woman opened a pale blue door, revealing Stanley in a hospital bed. Very slowly Karen entered the room and sat down next to him. Her hand brushed the sheet but all of a sudden she remembered the rules of the jail and frowned, confused.

"Can I touch him?"

The nurse nodded and left her alone. He looked like he was sleeping; which was the case somehow if there hadn't been any machine around him and the fragile sound of his heart that had stopped for a while before coming back to life for whatever reason; a bit too late maybe. He was in a coma.

The first contact with his own fingers made her jump. She hadn't touched him for five months. His skin was warm, soft against hers. She bit her lips and pressed his hand with more self-confidence as silent tears began to run down her cheeks. She leaned her face against his chest and closed her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, honey."

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It wasn't necessary but logical. She had been having her way with someone else while her husband had had a heart attack. It must have been a sign and the slightest reminiscence of the idea kept on stirring up a wave of nausea and a burning sensation of guilt.

She closed the box and put it in an envelop; shivered. She had been cold ever since she had seen Stanley's life connected desperately to a dozen of machines which every single beep only tended to scare her even more for the eventuality it might actually have been the last one. Wasn't It funny at the end to be unable to breathe without the help of artificiality? Perhaps we were just wrong to think it was supposed to be a natural process and men were, as a matter of fact, dependant of a whole series of machines.

She left the coffee shop and headed to the first box mail she found on her way; didn't think it twice and let the parcel disappear.

It must have been a sign that it was time to stop.

She felt naked though without the ring on her finger now; vulnerable and lost.


	17. Facetoface

**_Face-to-face_**

"I wanted to tell you that I gave back the ring to Will. I'm sorry."

Karen looked down, ashamed by her revelation. Those last words had been the ones she had written on the missive that had accompanied the jewel in its way back to Will. Because she had nothing else to say as a matter of fact; and it sounded true, honest.

Marilyn crossed her legs but didn't reply immediately. She was comfortably sat down on the old leather armchair of the lounge, her arms calmly resting on the sides of the seat. She looked like she was controlling the situation with a perfect, mature composure when Karen could barely prevent from moving; nervous in front of her. Will's mother's cool temper made her green with envy but this was not a time for some superficial daydream.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to give it back to you. I thought he was more perseverant."

The truth was that they had barely spoken to each other since Stanley's heart attack. Karen's husband wasn't in a coma anymore but she still felt guilty for what had happened that night. Will had probably understood and accepted for knowing that this time she was right.

A burning sip of vodka slid along her throat and warmed up almost instantly her cold body. She blinked at the blonde who had already emptied her glass.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I think you're just incredibly stupid."

Karen raised an eyebrow angrily but finally preferred to nod silently. The bar of The Four Seasons was full at this time of the day and she wasn't about to throw a fit in front of many well-known faces. She hadn't completely lost her integrity yet. Marilyn pointed out at her glass to a waiter and ordered another one in an implicit motion; leaned her head on a side. How could she be so calm?

"Why did you ask me to come here in the first place, Karen? I don't really get it. What my son does with the ring I gave him is none of my business and even less what you decide over it. I had really thought that I had made it clear enough the day I found out about it."

"I'm married."

Karen's voice had sounded low and pleading as if she were looking for a blessing from the blonde; the excuse that would justify all the rest. Marilyn was the person who knew about Will and her. She had experienced infidelity but had overcome it with, at the end, some elegance. It wasn't a choice from Karen but the fate of circumstance if Marilyn was actually the only woman she could confess her doubts and fears to about this odd relationship. And it weighed too much now.

"I'm afraid marriage doesn't have a lot to do with the eventuality of falling for someone else."

"I'm not in love with Will."

"Oh yes, sure; I'm sorry. Well, marriage doesn't prevent you more than any other relationship from having an affair. Somehow it should but it doesn't. It's not even about sadness or monotony but…"

"Accident…"

Marilyn shook her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I'd say fate. I don't really know what George was thinking about when he started seeing Tina. He probably thought about me at some point, perhaps even felt guilty… But that's life and weirdly enough I guess we found a balance in this dysfunctional scheme."

"I felt bad every single time."

Karen frowned, bit her lips. The conversation seemed to lighten her heart, just a little but enough though to feel hopeful. Not that she would know better once she would pass the doors of the lounge and come back home but it sounded good to speak, not so painful.

"You did but not more because of your husband than the fact you were enjoying being with my son. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I have come to this point that I don't remember why I married Stanley. Things were being monotone before he got arrested but I just assumed it was the logical evolution of a long-term relationship. I guess I mistook love for fascination but he treated me well and so I had no reason to complain. Something got broken when he went to jail. We didn't grow apart but realized that it had happened for a very long while yet."

"It's in the worst situations that we see if a couple is based on sincere feelings. Obviously you failed."

"But I won't divorce him. I can't do that. Stanley is the spring of my references."

"Why did you go towards my son? Technically he wasn't supposed to be interested so why did you nonetheless go for him?"

The waiter brought Marilyn's second Martini but left in the same, impeccable silence. Karen observed him for a couple of seconds. The fluidity of his movements and his permanent quietness reminded her of a soul that seemed to get materialized in the air before vanishing quickly in a whirl of breeze. He symbolized the furtiveness of tiny details. It was captivating.

"I have no idea. I might have felt that he wouldn't decline. I might have wanted it and that's all. Sometimes there's no explanation…"

"But only logic; yes, I know."

"What do you think about me?"

The question didn't seem to bother Marilyn at all. She took a sip of her drink and locked her eyes with Karen's. If there was something sure about her it was the strength of a natural and rare self-confidence.

"You're emotional, no matters how you try to hide it all the time. You move according to your feelings and will probably always do because it's the way you are."

The blonde ended up her cocktail and grabbed her bag then stood up.

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. Thank you for the drinks and the conversation. Call me anytime if you need to speak."

She looked at Karen's naked right hand and smiled softly.

"I saw the ring on your finger, the way my son looked at you; you might need time to accept it but I know that he will come back to you."


	18. A matter of synchronization

**_A matter of synchronization  
_**

Her fingers caressed his forehead and she couldn't help noticing the paleness of his complexion. He was livid; alive but still flirting with the limits of an underworld. Karen tried to sweep away the idea and bent over to kiss Stanley's head. He might have been in a hospital bed recovering from a heart attack but at least she could touch him and not just grab a phone or run her fingertips on a window. They had found back an ounce of intimacy but the truth was that they didn't know what to do with it. They barely spoke, barely looked at each other and so most of the time the television in the background of the room provided the murmurs to a feigned activity. She smiled at him, vaguely resigned, and left. The corridors were empty and extremely quiet, as usual. Obviously prisoners didn't cause the rush typical of the other hospitals. There was no wait, no scream, no precipitation; it was all well controlled to avoid the slightest rebellion. It was scaring.

She nodded at the nurses while passing the reception and finally pushed the doors. The sun was shining brightly but even the rain had a blinding effect after having spent an hour or so in the darkness of the jail. Karen blinked and put on her sunglasses, looking all around for her limousine but the immense parking lot was empty. She made a step forward and observed her shadow on the gray asphalt. Apart from the long building of the prison there was no sign of life and all of a sudden she felt lost in the middle of a lonely desert abandoned by men for a very long time. She grabbed her cell phone only to realize that she couldn't get any signal.

"Are you in a hurry?"

Will's voice surprised her but she didn't turn around to look at him. She knew he used to visit Stanley on Friday morning. She just wondered if he had other business trips in such area with any other client or if the incarceration of her husband constituted a premiere in his career.

"This place is far from being entertaining."

Will made a few steps then stopped next to her and locked his eyes with hers. He looked calm and friendly when all she had been dreading as soon as they would have had to face each other was his anger and frustration before the unexpected, abrupt way she had put an end to their relation.

"Then let's go to Brooklyn."

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She bit into her hotdog and let a moan of satisfaction come to her lips; blushed while noticing Will's glance towards her. He was looking at her in disbelief, amused though by the reaction set off by the contact of food with her mouth. He took a sip of his beer and kept on walking. A lot of people seemed to have decided to enjoy the first heats of the sun after the long period of coldness imposed by the winter and so the benches were all taken along the Promenade. Karen had always found it weird to sit down and contemplate in a semi-fascination at Manhattan from there when you could so easily reach the borough by crossing the bridge. Why did people prefer to live in their daydreams to give an attempt to make them come true?

"This spot will be perfect, honey."

She pointed out at a green area near by a tree; sat down on the grass and rolled her eyes before Will's dubitative look.

"This is not Manhattan. I can sit down on the ground… It's not like I have a chance to bump into some acquaintance around here."

She smiled at him as he settled next to her but very soon plunged back her gaze in the blank observation of the skyline in front of her. Their sudden closeness stirred up embarrassment and timidity over her mind and it's when Karen realized that she might have not turned the page properly. The awkwardness was understandable but the way she desperately tried to avoid his eyes had never crossed the thousand fantasies she had had about this exact moment when she would be alone with him and they would necessarily have to speak. She had just imagined that it would be alright and she would be able to pretend that she was far from it; didn't really mind anymore. What was about Will that made her doubt and hope in a confusing silence?

"I never regretted anything. I lied; I'm sorry. It happened, I liked it and I say so because I'm old enough to assume my acts. I suppose I was just scared of what it meant but now it's clear."

She took a sip of her beer and looked properly at Will. She hadn't planned to confess the slightest thing when his offer to share a lunch had been suggested friendly, with no intention of coming back over any explanation. But it sounded fair though, especially since an evident discomfort was weighing upon their shoulders.

The breeze made her hair fly in front of her face and she put the strand away, behind her ear.

"I can't come backwards and delete what we did but I still have a hold over it now; and the years that will pass by… I'm married, Will. And I'm not allowed to go on with you."

"I met someone."

"Oh…"

Karen's heart seemed to slow down, plunge in a dangerous lethargy and she swallowed hard. She had never felt so stupid in her whole life. A wave of iciness ran through her veins, made her organs freeze and by the trick of some incomprehensible chemistry, her lips nonetheless managed a smile; a very pale one. Her eyes fixed the grass; she nodded.

"I'm happy for you."


	19. Symbolism

**_Symbolism_**

The first commercial appeared on the screen in a joyful rhythm contrasting with the coldness of the room, the oppressive silence. Two nurses passed in the corridor slowly; Karen turned her head and looked at them whispering in each other's ear as if the slightest word that would hit the air would cause the chaos of the jail. They went away, carried by a singular impression of lightness as if their presence had only been the trick resulting from some troubled mind. They seemed suspended in the air somehow, brushing the floor in a fluid movement and all of a sudden Karen thought about Saint Mary's Academy in Utah. She was eight years old by then, not even a year after the loss of her father. For some reason she had been enrolled in this strict environment where constant threats seemed to have the preferences of the Sisters teaching there over the mere ounce of pedagogy.

And all she could actually remember, decades later, was the weight of the heavy rosary when it hit the disobedient pupil's wrist, half-hidden faces moving in silence behind the layers of black and white; the frosty gaze of the Superior and the shivers it sent to your spine when she was staring at you with the fury of a silent anger. Nobody was allowed to speak and the gloomy building only absorbed the echo of your steps and the gasps of your fears. It was probably the reason why she loved so much Manhattan now. The boiling and perpetual cacophony sounded reassuring somehow.

She took a deep breath as the reminiscence of a harsh time spread its wind of panic over her and a wave of nausea tightened her heart. She stood up suddenly but realized that logically enough the room was deprived of windows. Her tongue slid along her dry lips and she passed her hand through her hair, looking all around desperately.

"What do you want?"

She shook her head at Stanley and finally poured some water in a plastic glass; gulped it down. Her heartbeats came back to a regular pace little by little as the cells of her brain began to focalize on Mason and Olivia. Her eyes hazel furtively stopped on her husband; she hesitated. If she dared to speak, it would end up in an argument. It always did.

She frowned, turned her back at him but finally put aside her apprehension. Anyway if they wouldn't argue about his children then they would find another reason before the time of her visit got elapsed.

"Why did you send them to a boarding school?"

She leaned against the door and looked at the corridor by the little window. Stanley sighed and curiously enough it made her smile as if his anger could bring her some sort of pleasure.

"What is your problem with boarding schools? This one is one of the best of the country and it costs a little fortune."

"I just don't understand why people make children if it's to send them so far, so early… Those eighteen years before college should be a moment of pure bliss."

"Cathy is busy and I'm not in the best dispositions to look after them."

""You've never been, Stan. Spending five minutes a week with your children is not what I call parenthood."

"We will get back to this conversation when you know what it is to run a company."

Karen crossed her arms against her chest and raised her eyebrows as the irony of her husband's words hit her mind.

"This is exactly what I'm doing right now. If I had children…"

"But you don't and as much as I know that you're resenting it as…"

"I could have children. Think about adoption."

She had never dared to advance the idea. As a matter of fact when the results of her exams had been revealed, they had simply drawn a line under the eventuality of having a child. Besides Olivia and Mason were there and the truth was that Karen considered them as hers too somehow. After all they were a part of her day-to-day life and that was what a family was about to her eyes.

She waited for Stanley's reaction with amusement and an ounce of anxiety. She didn't think about adoption. The comment had just been thrown in the argument with a provocative intention, not even voluntarily.

Stanley blinked, obviously confused. He remained silent for a few seconds then finally burst out laughing.

"Oh come on, Karen. You can't even take care of a green plant properly. It's not your thing, sweetie."

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The old building had been transformed in a very modern greenhouse where a thousand different species shared the shelves in a gigantic mess of multicolored petals and leaves. The air was moist and a singular smell of evaporation and pollen seemed to melt in a merging kiss that went dizzily to your head while you wandered through the immensity of the aisles.

"I still don't understand why you want to do it by yourself. Rosario used to be in charge of this kind of purchase until now."

Clutched to her bag, Karen managed a forceful smile at Jack. Her well-known self-confidence seemed to have flown away as soon as she had passed the door and her obvious absence of knowledge had set off an unexpected timidity over her slightest gesture. Jack noticed it immediately but stayed quiet. She probably had a good reason to, no matter it sounded odd and she wasn't about to confess it to him. A young man approached them, tulips in hand.

"May I help you?"

"I'm looking for a green plant. A special one, pretty expensive… Well, something that would… Something that would look like me…"

Karen blushed as a wave of a shame and stupidity spread over her; unless the comparison she had just made was simply pitiful. She wasn't sure but yet she realized that her self-esteem had just been hit and pretty hard by her own decription.

"Okay… Any idea about the specie; a succulent, a house one…"

"I don't really know. I'd say something that requires attention."

"They all do."

Her mouth was dry and her heartbeats were now flirting with a dangerous limit. She still could feel the heat on her cheeks and the terrible sentiment that she shouldn't have come there with Jack was growing silently. The presence of her friend only plunged her even deeper in her heavy discomfort. Her eyes scanned the shelves in front of her. She pointed out at a small one.

"What is this one?"

"Actually bonzaïs aren't plants but trees and this is a oak. It's known for its strength and its capacity to resist any kind of weather."

"And this one is…"

"It's an olive tree. As you can see the leaves have a particular shape and the lines are delicate, elegant. It's a very old tree that got assimilated to a lot of symbols throughout the centuries. Hope and longevity for The Romans, peace and forgiveness in The Holly Bible, victory for The Greeks; and strength, fidelity for Ulysses. It's a very noble tree that requires a lot of care, a very specific one over the general maintenance that defines bonzaïs."

The words twirled in her head and she kept on looking at the olive tree while the man went into further explanations. She liked the dark shades of the trunk and the pale layer of white that seemed to cover the green leaves in a protective motion; like a good-night kiss on a forehead, a maternal smile.

"I'm going to take this one."

"Excellent choice, is it a present?"

Karen smiled, shook her head.

"No, it's for me."


	20. The way he used to kiss

**_The way he used to kiss_**

Karen's life stopped on a Wednesday morning when she saw Will share a table with someone on 33rd street. Just like that, without any warning, what she had taken for strong references exploded in a thousand pieces as she stayed still on the sidewalk, unable to move; her eyes fixed on the stolen moment. A passer-by in a rush bumped into her but if there hadn't been the sudden contact of a stranger's body against hers, she would have probably kept on wandering through her interrogations, the reason why she hadn't believed Will in the first place when he had told her about his date.

Then everything became clear: she wasn't mean to live but breathe, like a plant. As much as she knew her body didn't produce photosynthesis she had reached the limits of bearable feelings and it was over now. She would just go on, on a blank basis, until her allowed time on Earth would get suspended and she would close her eyes in an exhausted relief. She immediately cancelled her appointment for a manicure at Barney's scheduled on the exact afternoon and stopped visiting Stanley from then on.

She didn't go to work, just made her way home and spent the rest of the day observing how the trees of Central Park looked small from the heights of her terrace. After several bottles of wine and the inevitable reaction of her system to the pills she had ingurgitated, the world got lost in a blackout. She succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

New York never followed her abrupt decision to stop living and the city went on, as well as everybody but her. She did attend the parties, did laugh and pout as it was required but her own world had vanished, leaving behind invisible ruins of a failed attempt to forget and pretend she didn't care about him. The mere thought turned into a shameful obsession and all she was waiting for now was the moon shining in the sky. The light was pale by then and there was only in the dark that she allowed herself to think about the way his lips had touched her once; the way he used to kiss her skin.

When she wasn't bored of the rain then it was the sun that fell into her daily complains. Anything, the slightest cloud, the tiniest sound in the street below and she easily found an excuse to her moody behavior. But the worst of all was her silence. Sometimes she simply chose not to say a word and the hours passed by before her friends' incomprehension. Her face was expressionless, her eyes so fade.

"Do you have any appointment today?"

Karen reluctantly put down the pen she had been holding the whole morning and looked at Grace, counted the seconds aimlessly. She reached the tenth one and shook her head. She felt like smiling but the mechanism never set off. Perhaps she had forgotten how to do.

"Then you can go on your lunchtime if you want to."

Her pale fingers grabbed her bag and she left the office without a word. She was back in silent mode, back to nothing.

Grace waited for a while before rushing to her friend's desk, curious to find out what Karen had been concentrated on for so long. The notebook was still open, the page held back by the pen as a thousand different writing styles were forming an odd rosary of combined letters that didn't really mean anything. It always started by a "w", connected then to the name of Tom; Karen's nephew.

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The race of her heart reached another stage. Her pupils got diluted and the world seemed to spin around. She could feel the air brush her throat, penetrate her lungs in a warm embrace; vaguely oppressive. She opened her arms and raised them towards the sky; then smiled. It was when she knew she was high. Everything went away, the movements got slowed down and she felt sleepy; wide awake though. She had learned through the years that it was better without music because the sound was too loud; her ears too sensitive.

She hadn't expected anyone that evening and once she was off, there was no way to come back abruptly to a straight reality. You had to wait for the drug losing its effect on the body.

She was in full trip when Will entered, the palms of her hands leaned against the French windows; cold touch. She didn't move and let him approach. She had seen him the day before, almost the whole week. And as if she had never undressed in front of him _ run her hands along his flesh _ the conversation had been fluid and casual; talking about Walker Inc.

"Stanley wants to know if you're still alive."

"Is he mad at me? I seriously doubt I'm missed…"

Will pouted and narrowed his eyes. She avoided his gaze just to hide the evidence of LSD side-effects through her pupils and the little veins reaching them. They always tended to get red by then.

"I guess 'pissed off' is closer to the truth."

"How much did he give you so that you came over here and told me about his exasperated mood?"

"Not a single penny…"

Her right foot slid on a side and she turned around but Will's reaction was faster, less lost in a fog of hallucinations. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him.

"Karen if there's something wrong you know you can tell me."

Squinting her eyes, she let a little laugh pierce the awkward silence of the living-room then bit her lower lip.

"But life is beautiful, Will, isn't it?"

Her smile froze as her eyes focalized on his lips. She frowned, swallowed hard.

"I wish it were just a bad dream."

Before realizing it she was kissing him, deeply; with strength and bitterness. She pushed him towards the sofa but as he bumped into it something hit his mind and so he broke apart; pushed her away.

"You're high."

His comment stirred up perplexity. She blinked at him, waiting for an explanation. Her eyes were so narrowed that he couldn't see her pupils properly.

Within a second Will reached the door and vanished in a murmur of regrets.

"It's not the way you used to kiss me."

Karen wanted to run after him but the effects of LSD had slowed down her movements and all she managed to do was to lose her balance. She grabbed the countertop of the kitchen to prevent from falling but her olive tree tipped over by a clumsy gesture of her elbow. The ceramic base broke into pieces; she kneeled down and observed the roots of the bonzaï out of its ground.

She burst into tears, like in a bad trip. But this one really looked like reality and perhaps Stanley had been right at the end. She wasn't made to have a heart.


	21. A pressure of the thumb

**_A pressure of the thumb_**

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before leaning her head backwards against the wall. She hadn't done that in years, more than a decade as a matter of fact, but like the most elementary gestures, the procedure was engraved in her brain; unforgettable acts.

First of all her heartbeats, they were going too fast and her hands were shaking. It required quietness and precision not to miss the vein which was somehow extremely ironic when you thought that most of the people about to get a fix were having withdrawal symptoms. It wasn't her case this time though, not yet. She had simply awoken in the morning wishing nothing but disappear from the surface of the planet and there was nothing better than a shot of heroine to get that. It hadn't taken her very long to find back the right streets, the anonymous faces that pretended to be waiting for the bus; hands in the pockets of their jeans, shoulders against the trunk of some tree.

Second of all her mind; she had to block the way to any kind of thought from how Stanley would say it was expected to Will who would advance that it was disgusting, sad. As for her own opinion, it was lost in a fog of disappointment and distress while furtive images from a painful past hit back her brain with the strength of the worst mistakes like blinding flashbacks during a migraine.

She shook her head to push away her thoughts and swallowed hard; looked down at the syringe. Fifteen years of abstinence vanishing in a micro-second with the mere pressure of her thumb on the plastic item; she started sobbing, fighting with the oppressive hope that someone would stop her before she dared to do it. The needle passed underneath her skin; she restrained a jump at the sudden contact. It didn't really hurt or at least not physically. It was all in her mind.

"Karen I need to speak to you."

Grace's voice pierced the silence of the bathroom. Karen let go of the syringe, surprised by her friend's presence. It fell down on the floor, her foot stopped it immediately and she put a shaking hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. It was just a door, a fine piece of wood that separated her despair from the arms and the reassuring smile of her friend.

"Okay, I'm coming. Give me five seconds…"

Her voice had sounded weak but Grace left her alone and she allowed herself to sigh, slowly; painfully. She grabbed the syringe on the floor and shot the expensive white liquid in the toilets; flushed.

"What can I do for you, honey?"

Grace turned her head away from the window she was leaned on and stared at Karen, frowning. She seemed worried, disarmed.

"Are you okay, Karen? You look pale."

"I skipped breakfast this morning."

Nervously she pulled on her top as Grace made her way to her messy desk. The interior designer moved around a pile of sketches and grabbed a deep blue paper then tended it to Karen.

"I want you to go there."

From all the possibilities that life could offer her, Karen hadn't thought about this one. She gasped as her eyes widened; for a couple of seconds she felt like she was about to pass out; her legs were shaking and she seemed too light. Confusion had spread over her brain, incomprehension. Grace took out of a bag an interior design magazine, opened it.

"You know how I have never really stopped talking about the design in Shenyang… For a lot of reasons I have to stay here so I want you to go there as my assistant. Besides you mentioned some notions of Chinese on your resume."

"I don't really picture me out alone in this city… I mean, I can't go there by myself."

"And you won't. Will is coming with you."

"Excuse me?"

An odd reaction used to set off as soon as someone alluded to Will. Her blood turned into an icy liquid that seemed to rush through her veins with pain and difficulty before reaching her heart and made it freeze.

"We had a conversation last night, the guys and I. Since Jack has been cast for this play, he can't go with you. So Will…"

"I'm sorry Gracie but I have to decline. There's no way I go there with him. Things happen sometimes you know and… Will and I aren't that close besides."

Her hesitation was obvious but the truth was that she hadn't managed to look at Will properly since that dark evening when she had kissed him and broken her olive tree; since her decadence had actually begun to twirl around a bit too quickly. She still hadn't hit the ground though and now she couldn't help wondering how long it would take before her finally crashing at the bottom of her days.

Grace shook her head and adopted a firmer tone of voice. She didn't look angry, just exasperated and worn-out.

"Well listen, Karen. I don't mind what happened between the two of you since Stanley's in jail. You might have grown closer, argued… Whatever; this is none of my business. But stop thinking that your life is a nightmare when there're so many people around you and all you have to do is open your heart just a freaking inch. And we are here; you know it, besides. It's Will who suggested that he could accompany you so obviously, whatever happened it is okay for him. Now grow up and assume your dysfunctional feelings."

Karen looked down at her feet. It was rare when people dared to face her and shake her so-called untouchable person. It made her feel weak but most of all real _ alive _ and it was all she was actually asking for somehow.

"Besides you will be able to visit Tom. Your brother lives there, doesn't he? I know how you miss him."

Perhaps she didn't need heroine at the end, not yet. She might have withdrawal symptoms, a lack of tenderness, but a shot was a dead-end when her friends were the exact opposite.

She stared at the flight ticket and let a few seconds pass by; then smiled at Grace.


	22. The night before we left

**_The night before we left_**

She had seen it a thousand times, on different occasions; always abandoned on the corner of some room as the symbol of an immediate departure. It was a small bag, a brown leather one; very classic lines, elegant in its subtlety and design. She liked it for the uniqueness of the places it had gone to and all the stories it would probably tell if it happened to have the ability to speak. It contained a part of his life if not most of his memories. Karen sat down on the edge of her sofa and observed it with attention. Without really knowing how, she found herself thinking about the day she had moved in with Stanley and how all of a sudden her presence had been affirmed by an impressive amount of feminine items invading the space of a recent divorced man. The only difference was that Will hadn't come there to build a so-called life with her. They had just assumed that it would be safer if he spent the night at her flat so that they left for the airport together; in the first hours of the morning.

Will stepped out of the bathroom but stayed at a reasonable, ridiculous distance of Karen. He still didn't seem angry for what she had done to him. As a matter of fact she had come to the point that the blankness of his reaction was extremely troubling but staying quiet over it sounded better; easier too.

"As we have to leave around seven tomorrow morning, I guess I should call it a night now."

"Oh sure, honey; I show you…"

She stood up and motioned at her office to finish her sentence. She had prepared a sofa-bed in the afternoon, pushing all her mess away; on the hardwood floor, on her desk.

He had arrived a couple of hours earlier and as much as they hadn't stopped speaking, it had more sounded like a desperate way to avoid the evident awkwardness that their blurry past had left above their heads. Karen entered the room and turned around, looking at him timidly. She hated that, how her slightest movement could sound insecure and clumsy. She felt like she was thirteen with as only baggage a poor make-out session with an older cousin named Benny. It should have been different now. She had married twice already and could barely remember the loss of her virginity.

"I hope it will be alright. It's not a real bed but the mattress is good and… Well, if you need anything, you know where I am. Do you want a bottle of water? I know you like drinking in the morning."

Her last comment made her blush as it highlighted the evocation of their past intimacy; what they had avoided until now. And without a second Karen had ruined it all, shamefully. She grabbed her bag put down previously on a chair but it got trapped in the arm of the seat. She didn't notice it in time and half of her things slid out of it.

"Oh damn it!"

Karen kneeled down immediately and hurried to pick up her items. Will followed, joining her in the process. She had just put back a pen in her bag when she noticed the syringe and the stash. Her hand hid them with precipitation but the silver paper slipped through her fingers and Will got it. A wave of warmness spread from her stomach to her throat before reaching her eyes in a stitching way. She didn't even think about speaking. It all stayed there, in the depths of her shame and her dark insecurities. Very slowly her eyes met his; she frowned, her jaw began to shake as a tear ran down her cheek.

It landed on Will's hand silently, heavily. She would have probably rushed away if he hadn't caressed her cheek with his fingertips, trying to erase the path traced by her pain; burning, invisible scar. She let him do, never pushed him away; simply closed her eyes as he grabbed her nape and captured her lips. It only took her three seconds before responding to it; no matter her mind was shouting that she should break apart and leave. Her heart was just praying for the exact opposite.

He had never been so sweet, so gentle. The least inch of skin passing under his kisses seemed to find back an old lightness that the years and the pain had silenced and buried. Life was coming back to her heart, warming up her bones, nourishing her flesh and strengthening her smiles as they were undressing each other; their moans succeeding to their sighs. Then he stopped, on top of her. Her legs were spread, ready for a fusion of their bodies and the peculiar sensation to have created a new entity. He locked his eyes with her hazel ones, passed a hand through her hair. She nodded. Will bent over, making the few inches of distance disappear in a sensual, deep kiss.

"I didn't use it, the syringe. I couldn't do it so I threw the heroine away and forgot about it. I'm not a junkie."

They were still breathless and coming back little to little to reality after having reached the paroxysm of singular sensations. Nobody used to speak by then. The moment belonged to those five little seconds that separated love making from the comeback to a sweet reality. But Karen had broken the rules as if the words had been burning her lips and she couldn't have helped it.

"I know."

Will kissed her temple and tightened his grip on her tiny frame.

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It was a new life, a new beginning lit up by bright, warm hopes. The end remained unclear, uncertain, but for once Karen didn't feel like thinking about it. All she knew was that she had missed Will and would do her best now to catch up the wasted time with him; no matter she was still not thinking about getting a divorce, no matter her wedding ring sounded a bit less fair and loyal on her finger.

She put her jacket on and welcomed Will with a smile then kissed his lips softly. They were about to leave and perhaps it was all they actually needed. Changing of atmosphere, getting lost in an unknown culture; enjoying what life had to bring. Someone knocked at the door; they grabbed their bags and headed to it, thinking about nothing but the perfection of the previous night. As illogical as it was, it sounded right.

Karen opened the door and gasped; frowned. Her incomprehension was deep when the only person she had expected to face had been the doorman coming up to help them with their luggage. She shook her head, murmured.

"What are you doing here, little buddha?"

Standing on the doorframe Mason shrugged, crying quietly.


	23. Quiet China

**_Silent China_**

The plane took off and Karen finally managed a sigh of relief. She could relax now, maybe even have a drink and let the stress of the previous hours go away. Her feet were hurting in her high heels for having run so much and if the pressure didn't come back to a regular and acceptable degree, her light headache would turn very quickly into an atrocious migraine. Leaning her head backwards, she looked at Mason sat next to her. The little boy was observing the clouds in a religious silence. At least he had stopped crying now.

Something had been stirred up in her brain, a sort of anxious sentiment as they had left her flat in a rush, taking Stanley's son with them while Will had tried to call Cathy to know what to do. The answer had been short, cold. She didn't mind; she wouldn't be in New York for quite a while so Mason wasn't a part of her plans. Sending a fax to the airport, Karen and Will had had to wait for Cathy's authorization for the boy leaving legally the country; just a matter of seconds before the plane taking off and as soon as they had finally reached their seats, the signal to fasten the seatbelts had resounded.

Obviously Mason wanted to come with her and so she hadn't been able to refuse him since he had been crying, for whatever reason that she would have to mention more or less soon anyway. But what was she going to with him? She was leaving for China in a last attempt to stop the decadence of her life and the strong whirl of despair she had fallen in. She was with her lover but the situation wasn't clear at all and they needed to speak, to analyze a couple of things; maybe spend some time together. That was what she really wanted now. She turned her head and looked at Will, sat on her right. He was plunged in a novel and barely noticed her glance. How could he pretend to be so detached, almost not concerned by the situation when he was one of the main protagonists of it? She was nervous all the time when he seemed to be calm, in peace. Her jealousy began to boil in her veins before turning into a ridiculous anger; a heavy frustration. She grabbed her blanket and tried to get some sleep.

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"Are you okay?"

They had left New York for five hours now and Mason hadn't said a word. He had kept on staring out of the window plane, his brown eyes narrowed; his mind lost in his thoughts. Karen's voice had sounded low and unusual but the little boy didn't seem to care that much. He turned around and nodded sagely.

Stanley's children's quiet temper had always got on Karen's nerves. They were as fade as a gray sky in the middle of the rain, monotone and lifeless when all they should have done was to protest, to scream, to laugh and cry. A child wasn't supposed to be a mirror of silence and acceptances. She saw this period of life like a wave; it could grow in frustration or anger and all of a sudden break down in a sweet, calm and peaceful caress.

"I want to go to the bathroom."

"Oh sure, honey."

Will and Karen stood up and looked at Mason go away.

It wasn't supposed to turn that way. Nobody ever had to face such a harsh morning after when reality hit you a little too early and all the tenderness of a new complicity had to be pushed aside; not forgotten but still. Karen cleared her voice and moved on her seat, not looking at Will. Her heart was beating fast; her mind was confused. What was she supposed to do?

As if he had read through her thoughts, Will passed his hand _ slowly _ under Karen's blanket. She could say that he was shaking when his insecure fingertips finally brushed her thigh and rested there; intimate gesture. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and swallowed hard but very soon her own hand followed his and she pressed it softly. She jumped, surprised, when he pushed away a strand of her hair to put it behind her ear; his breath was hot against her temple. She felt dizzy.

She anticipated the kiss and leant over but as she could almost feel his lips on hers, Mason's voice resounded loud in the quiet panic of her heart and she broke apart; standing up again.

"Why do you go to China, Karen?"

Trying to cope with the missed kiss, she shrugged at Stanley's son; sighed, rolled her eyes.

"A lot of work, on myself; we're going to visit family too. I'm sure you will love this country."

"I see. What is he doing here?"

Mason pointed out at Will; Karen blushed, bit her lower lip as the incongruity of the situation hit her suddenly. Travelling with a stepson and a lover didn't sound common at all; it was even sad, scandalous.

"Will is a very good friend of mine and I need him here, with me."

"I know who he is. He's also your attorney. Do you still love dad?"

Karen had come to this point that she didn't remember her past feelings. Everything was blurry, sounding impossible; complex. She was sure though that Stanley had never stirred up anything but jealousy and fatigue from her heart; fascination and game. While marrying him she had thought that she had won; what exactly, she wouldn't have been able to say.

Embarrassed, she pulled on her blanket and put an end to the conversation, closing her eyes.

"Sure honey, I do."

Wrong note; false tone…


	24. So far, so close, unexpected touch

**_So far, so close, unexpected touch  
_**

It was like hoping for something with an unusual strength and finally getting nothing. Just a frustrating notion of non-sense; perhaps it was a sign. They arrived in China at seven in the morning on a rainy Sunday, jetlagged; exhausted. The monotone suburban landscape from the airport to the hotel seemed to last an eternity and it's only when Karen sat down on her bed that she started feeling sick. It was all in her head, a troubling motion of distress and confusion; quiet hopes too. But Mason's presence changed a lot of things and made her wonder about the last night she had shared with Will.

Like by some trick of the fate, the hotel was fully booked and Stanley's son finally had to stay in Will's twin bedroom while Karen would be next door. But still, a wall separating them was too much, too cold. She was dying for Will's arms and his reassuring smell. She needed a male presence in her bed, not the emptiness of a harsh reality or the iciness of the sheets.

_I want to make love to you, everywhere; at any moment. I don't mind about what people could say, the fact that I'm married. I just want you, right now; and feel your hands caress my skin, your lips kiss my whole body. It's just a comforting feeling you know. I'm desired; by you._

The words remain quiet in her boiling mind and she fall asleep alone, vaguely wondering if Will was actually wishing for the same. She hoped so with a shameful faith.

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The days got wrapped into a singular rhythm imposed by unexpected circumstances. She might have been spending most of her time with Will, they never managed to find themselves alone in order to share an intimate face-to-face, a mere kiss. In the morning they went for a walk through the city and enjoyed the differences of culture with innocence and a virgin, pure happiness. But Mason was there, as well as Brian, Karen's sister. And to be completely honest she was way too focused on her nephew to really try the slightest gesture towards Will. The afternoon went smoothly and she headed to the design salon then sent mails to Grace to keep her updated. Weirdly enough her professionalism had reached a degree of seriousness that let everyone astonished. Maybe it was just a way to escape from the troubles coming straight from her heart; just a shadow of cowardice.

She had just stepped out of the shower after a whole day of so-called work and was observing the features of her face in the mirror of the bathroom when a stifled noise seemed to come from behind the closed door; like someone stumbling on a chair, quiet steps on the carpeted floor. Instinctively Karen held her breath and waited, the palms of her hands leaned on the marbled countertop. The seconds flew away in a religious silence until she realized that the doorknob was being turned slowly on her back. She turned around and faced it; her heart beating fast. Then he appeared and she rolled her eyes; weirdly relieved.

"Damn why did you not knock, Will? You scared me to death! And how did you manage to go into my room?"

With an amused smile playing on his lips, he shrugged and let her leave the bathroom for the large bedroom. She was furiously pacing it from right to left as if she were actually trying to ease her previous fears.

"You hadn't properly closed it…"

His reply made her stop abruptly; she looked at him, adopting a softer tone of voice. The truth was that she was feeling nervous every time she found herself in front of Will for an obvious reason. He approached her without saying a word and untied her bathrobe. His lips were hot against her shoulder blade, bewitching as his hands moved on her waist and came to rest on her buttocks. It sounded creepy, a bit too 'casual sex' but she was actually dying for it after five days of an unbearable distance. Karen leaned her head backwards and closed her eyes, finally succumbing to Will's bold kisses.

"Where is Mason?"

Between two moans and a series of restrained sighs, her brain concentrated furtively on basic things and the singular feeling that she actually had responsibilities towards her husband's son while being there; so far from home.

"He's watching television in our room. I told him I was here if he needed me…"

Will's lips had moved down to her breasts as his fingers were running on her thighs, playing with her nerves while avoiding her most sensitive area. Karen spread her legs as a silent sign to guide his hands to it and the bathrobe slid; only held up by her forearms.

"He's not supposed to stay alone. We shouldn't do that, not now."

"I know."

Will lifted her suddenly, made her lay down on the bed before finally heading to the paroxysm of her sensitivity. The contact of his tongue with her inner flesh made her gasp and arch her back. She passed her hand through his hair, pushed him closer; smiled, satisfied.

The room was very silent, only punctuated from time to time by Karen's moans and heavy sighs. Way too concentrated on their own occupation, they didn't hear the door being pushed _ obviously Will had forgotten to close it too _ and didn't notice Mason's presence in the lobby. The little boy was standing there, observing them blankly. He frowned, blinked and finally left; came back in front of the television screen of his room, unsure of what he had been witnessing.


	25. The mechanism of existence

**_The mechanism of existence_**

The row of the prayers' shoes was perfect like a fine and unique ribbon of various colors; a thousand fabrics. People were coming and going sagely in a religious silence, disappearing behind the heavy cherry tree door then at the corner of the temple while life was finally winning over their spiritual acts. Sat on a bench in front of it, Karen looked at the movement a bit blankly, absent-mindedly. Her feet were balancing in the air, her heart was beating fast; nervous touch. Mason was next to her and as the last days were coming up slowly, she knew that it was time to speak with the little boy about the reason why he had showed up in the first place at her door. She was just extremely reluctant about it; it was the first time that the seriousness of a conversation would ever come up between the two of them and Karen was afraid that it could change it all; like that, so quickly.

"Why were you crying, honey?"

Her hazel eyes were fixed on the door right in front of her. The discomfort actually embarrassed her a lot and so she would have never been able to look at Stanley's son properly. Perhaps she didn't have to; after all breakdowns didn't always require any special excuse.

"I'm missing you; a lot. It's good to be back at mom's place but it's not the same anymore and I don't like that. I'm used to seeing you around."

She got touched, of course. But her ridiculous pride didn't allow her to show it as well as she would have liked to and so she passed, awkwardly enough, her arm around Mason's shoulder.

"I miss you too, little Buddha. It's just a matter of time, you know. One day your father will be released and everything will come back to normal."

"No it won't."

The boy's reply surprised Karen a lot. She frowned, confused, and finally turned her face around to look at him properly. On the opposite of adults, children weren't supposed to be so negative.

"Why are you saying that?"

Mason narrowed his brown eyes at her; shrugged.

"Because you have Will now… I'm only nine years old but I saw him against you and you looked happier than with dad. It's okay; that's life."

A burning heat ran up her cheeks and she looked down. They hadn't made the slightest step towards each other in public with Will so Karen assumed that for some reason, Stanley's son had witnessed something. She felt ashamed, extremely uncomfortable.

At this exact moment a row of little girls passed in front of them. They were all wearing the same uniform; same haircut. The eldest one was probably five years old and they followed in rhythm a woman walking fast towards the exit. Wishing nothing but winning some time, Karen observed them and jumped as the smallest girl, the last one, fell down all of a sudden. Instinctively Karen rushed to her, helping the unfortunate Chinese child to stand back on her feet.

The little girl hugged her tightly; like that, so unexpectedly that Karen gasped but let her do. The group had already reached the door though so Karen decided to take her in her arms; then rushed to the woman who hadn't noticed anything. In a perfect Chinese accent, Karen resolved the situation very quickly.

It was an orphanage, from the suburbs. The children were so dying for an embrace that the little girl had probably thought that Karen wanted to be her mother. After the woman's explanation, her hazel eyes fell down on the child; she shook her head, apologizing. She had never felt so bad.

Her high heels resounded loud as she came back to the bench where Mason was sagely waiting for her but she didn't sit down next to him, simply pointed out at the door.

"Come on let's back to the hotel now."

She hadn't forgotten about the boy's last words; not at all. Their meanings were hitting the walls of her brain in a dry apathy and all what Karen could say was that she felt sick while thinking about it.

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"What have you said to Mason about me?"

Will raised an eyebrow and stopped sucking on her neck. She usually didn't speak during foreplay; probably didn't think either but simply let her feelings take possession of her mind. He leaned up on his elbow and shrugged, smiling.

"We haven't talked about you, I'm sorry. Why are you asking me that?"

"He knows something. We were speaking a couple of hours ago at a temple and all of a sudden he told about the way you hold me and how happy I seemed to be when you did."

Before Karen's obvious interrogations, Will drew a line for a moment under the perspective of sex and sit up on the bed.

"Well you can trust me; I haven't told him anything about you and me."

"I do; I trust you. It's just that it's not the way it should be. Do you see what I mean? He's nine years old, his father is in jail and Lord knows how he knows that his stepmother is having an affair with her gay friend. It sounds so pitiful…"

"What did you reply to him?"

Karen shook her head before smiling brightly. She still could feel the hug of the orphan warm up her body.

"I ran out of time. I met a little girl instead but that's another story."


	26. On my way back to you

**_On my way back to you_**

The plane took off and Karen's heart slowed down dangerously, just a sort of quiet pain leaving from the arteries and reaching the center of the organ with a vague delicacy. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it, how the ideas were rushing to her mind shouting out loud that something was going wrong. The last few days had been hectic and extremely troubling, uncontrollable. The seconds had seemed to fly away and she had been taken into a whirl of uncertainty; about Will, about Mason, about Stanley, about her life in more general terms.

There was a time when she had thought that her existence had finally been settled down and she had got all the things she had ever wanted. But as the years had been passing by, her brain had voluntarily put a veil over her dissatisfactions. Pretending she was fine and that everything was alright sounded easier if not reassuring but the last events and her trip to China had drawn a line under her lies and she felt sick of her past life. What were two weeks in a whole existence? Absolutely nothing; but details sometimes owned this peculiar characteristic to get a hold over things.

Her relation to Stanley's son had strengthened unexpectedly; she had grown closer to him and his presence next to her had turned into a soft habit. As for Will a red alert was buzzing in her head, warning her that she started enjoying his hands on her skin a bit too much when she simply shouldn't. But she couldn't help it and as soon as she found herself in a room alone with him, she had to caress his lips.

She smiled at Mason and pressed Will's tight softly, almost subconsciously as a matter of fact. Her fingers were resting calmly on him when she realized the gesture and hurried to take her hand away; she blushed, embarrassed. An hour had passed by and thirty nine were left, trapped as she was between her lover and her husband's son; imposed intimacy over her choices, ironical symbolism of her blurry priorities and Karen felt a headache invade her mind, hit against her temples. She moaned and rubbed her forehead. What would happen next?

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"Do you miss Tom?"

Karen put down her fork and looked at Will. They were having dinner but even in first class the standards weren't as high as expected and you vaguely looked like an automat while eating your lobster on such a tiny table. Everyone was vaguely bent over, trying desperately not to let the food reach an expensive jacket or a silk dress. The remark touched her and she smiled, nodding.

"Yes I do; he's an adorable little boy."

Will didn't find anything special to reply; he came back to his plate, putting an abrupt end to a sweet conversation.

The truth was that she was missing her life in China, how far her problems seemed to have stayed from her all along; how she could be close to Will every night and all the elements that had led little by little to a state of near perfection. Though what she kept the most in mind right now was the last hour in Shenyang. She had run all over the city to associate the address found on the web to an actual building. Mason had stayed with Will, not asking any explanation about her own whim to be alone, all of a sudden. It didn't make sense, not even to her but something in her heart had pushed her to do so. She didn't feel light now, just troubled; lost in her fuzzy thoughts.

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The plane landed and her dreams crashed. She lost her smile, the grace of her relaxed features: then went back to her daily appearances. Rosario was standing in the middle of the crowd, waiting for them hands in the pockets of her jacket.

If she had to think back about this moment, Karen would have probably noticed the maid's worry gaze and the impatience in the way her foot was hitting the floor. But she was jetlagged and so focused on her problems that the rest passed completely unnoticed. That must be why it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Rosario didn't say a word and simply tended a letter to her before shrugging miserably in a gesture of sincere apologies. Karen frowned, logically taken aback and dropped out her bag on the floor of the airport as the words made sense to her sleepy mind.

"But…"

It's all she actually managed to say. Her hazel eyes stared at Will in a blank motion; he was standing next to her maid, completely unaware of what her brain was trying to analyze and find a way to soften her reaction. All she felt like doing was to burst into tears but to save the appearances she simply nodded and managed a pale smile.

"Well, I suppose I should celebrate then."

The silence floating over the group hurt her because she had to make an effort more in the painful feeling resented in her heart but still, she owed Mason and Will an explanation.

"Stanley's released."

The urge of having a shower rushed to her brain and she retrieved for her suitcase quickly, leaving the hall. At least under the water she would be able to hide her tears because she was indeed sad; for her husband leaving the jail earlier but even more towards herself for coming to such suggestions. Her wish was simply inhuman; she wasn't prepared for Stanley's return and as she stepped into the limousine, Karen realized that she might not be ready to come back to her so-called normal life either.


	27. Little West 12th street

**_Little west 12th street  
_**

It wasn't about recovery but adaptation to impossibility. Coming back to New York announced the end of a sweet and delicate time especially since Stanley was about to be released sooner than what everyone had expected. And so Karen plunged into a light depression, a sort of invisible lethargy that cut her from the rest of the world for a whole week. She spent most of her time in bed, waking up in the middle of the night and falling asleep at the end of the afternoon; completely jetlagged with the terrible sentiment that she was so lonely all of a sudden. It sounded right, logical but not fair at all.

She never returned Jack's calls and refused to see him whenever he stopped by. It might have been harsh but she needed time and analyze over the situation. It was supposed to be clear but as a matter of fact her mind had never been so blurry in her whole life. The least gesture seemed to weigh a lot on her body, way too much; like her heartbeats. And as soon as she tried to move, a silent pain was invading her bones.

But one day she finally decided to get up, for no particular reason. It was raining and the sky was so gray that for a second or two she actually thought the night had fallen down over the city. She barely brushed her hair and put on her sunglasses, avoiding makeup that would probably get her exhausted. She left the flat in a deep silence to wherever her feet would lead her. She had no plans for once, no particular desire but go away from The Upper East Side and the oppressive crash of untold wishes.

Karen had never been impulsive. Everything was thought, over and over, before her taking the slight decision; probably an attempt to escape from the childhood she had lived, so unbalanced. Her attention simply got caught up by the sign and so she climbed the stairs, like hypnotized. She had landed in Greenwich Village without really knowing how but as soon as her hand made contact with the banister, a singular harmony warmed up her heart and she felt safe, in peace. Lucky enough unless it was just fate, the real estate agent was still there when she pushed the door and entered. Even the sound of her high heels on the hardwood floor sounded enjoyable enough for once and within thirty minutes she found herself in possession of the flat; an impulsive purchase, a loft with large, old windows and the view over what she thought was one of the most beautiful brick buildings of the city.

She came back home later, all smile; but didn't say anything to anyone. She just accepted a drink, then a meal. And life went back to a softer shade, little by little.

For the very first time since she had come back from China, Karen felt like seeing people, talking. Will had left a thousand messages on her answering machine; she kind of missed him but as soon as she actually grabbed the phone, the image of Stanley rushed back to her mind and so she simply froze before renouncing.

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Four hours; Karen had four hours left before Stanley's return and weirdly enough, she didn't know what to do. A couple of weeks had passed by since Shenyang and all of a sudden, so abruptly, she had to plunge back in an old and almost forgotten daily routine. She hadn't spent any night with Will, hadn't brushed his lips; hadn't smiled at him with an evident complicity. She was just starting to enjoy again Jack's presence and the comforting routine of the office, leaving behind the strangeness of China and the only thing she was sure of now was that she wasn't ready at all; it made her feel nervous.

Two hours; she stepped into a bath and closed her eyes, leaned her head backwards. But it didn't work out either and all she could think of was Stan; her own discomfort. She let the seconds fly away but finally growled in annoyance. He might have been her husband but she didn't feel the urge to kiss him, even less share a moment of intimacy with him. She wanted distance, comprehension and lightness but the situation was such that she couldn't find any acceptable conclusion.

An hour; her breath became louder, her heartbeats speeded up their pace. She began to look all around for an answer. She hadn't even come back to the manse yet. All her belongings were still at the guest's flat where she had been living for quite a while now. Stanley wouldn't like that, no matter they had separated bedrooms for almost a decade; six months after her marriage to be exact. It had broken her heart by then but she had swallowed back her pain and pretended it was normal. It only made her sick, even more now.

Thirty minutes; a sort of fever took possession of her body and without realizing it, she found herself writing down a note. The words were sliding in a fluid movement as if it only belonged to logic when she thought it was purely crazy. Her features were deep, she was lost in her thoughts. And as she finally put down the pen on the table, her hands were shaking.

Ten minutes; Karen slammed the door behind her for the very last time. She wouldn't come back there anymore. All what was left of her now at the manse was a message, vaguely confused perhaps, and her wedding ring over the sheet of paper. The taxi drove off; she didn't look at the building.

Her fingers were clutched on the key of the loft on Little west 12th street.


	28. Pasta alla carbonara

**_Pasta alla carbonara_**

She could have disappeared from the surface of Earth so easily if she hadn't taken Will's call at one in the morning. Nobody knew that she had just left Stanley, even less the place where she could have gone to and the purchase of the loft had remained under silence as if subconsciously she had prepared her leaving like an old, so important secret. Perhaps it was that at the end, a wish she had been nourishing for so long and that had finally decided to impose itself without her having anything to say about it; no complain. She had landed in the empty flat at the end of the day when the sun caresses the buildings of a pale, soft color of quietness; and she had sat down in the middle of the living-room, on the hardwood floor, staying still for long hours of blank wonders.

What would happen next? She was the one who had put an end to her marriage, abruptly and without any good reason but a sentiment that she hadn't felt free all along the years. It weighed a lot on her shoulders, troubled her nights and for the very first time of her life, while contemplating the flat on Little West 12th Street, Karen began to draw out some plans. Her brain was in turmoil, a thousand ideas twirling around and making her eyes sore for hoping so much; the craziness of warm disillusions. That might explain the reason why she grabbed her phone and answered to Will. She was still halfway between the eloquence of her dreams and the consequences of reality; drugged by the effusion of her smiles.

Stanley had found the wedding ring, read her message. Apparently he wasn't angry but just worried about her and so he had called Will while realizing he had never been given her cell phone's number. This detail could have sounded weird but when she thought about it, it was the most pitiful symbol of their relationship. They had grown apart since the very beginning and adapted themselves to it with a disturbing easiness as if it were pure logic. But it wasn't and would never be.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

She hesitated, bit her lips and closed her eyes tightly. If she had had to be honest, it was all she actually wanted; a sort of carnal whim and the relaxing sensation that brought Will's arms to her whenever they shared a hug.

"No, I will be fine; thank you."

She just couldn't now.

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Her fingers grabbed the egg with delicacy and in a controlled gesture she broke it with one hand under Grace's astonished gaze. The basil was cut, waiting sagely in a bowl while she had just plunged her home-made pasta in boiling water and a delicious smell of bacon was bewitchingly invading the loft. Karen in a kitchen; it was as improbable as snow in July but she actually moved around with a disconcerting logic and precision as if she had been cooking for a very long time. She knew what she was doing and realized every single movement with a perfect technique.

"Where did you learn how to cook?"

Leaned over the bacon Karen smiled and raised an eyebrow, obviously amused by the question.

"My uncle Steve owned a diner. I used to help him."

A week had passed by, stealing away the darkness of the first night and the confusion of her decisions over her marriage with Stanley. Nothing had stopped, on the contrary; she had started living again and was building her own references, little by little. She liked it a lot, felt light; her features had softened.

Grace left as Will entered the kitchen area. She didn't look at him and pretended to be concentrated on the pasta; no matter the heat running all of a sudden on her cheeks. It was the first time her friends came over to her place. The seven previous days had been hectic, singular. She had seen them a lot outside but they had barely spoken about her unexpected decision. She knew they supported her but it was such a big change that she felt like they were simply avoiding the subject when she actually might need to talk about it, debate; argue.

She felt his hand brush her back and she swallowed hard, not daring the slightest gesture.

Her heart was beating fast and the room began to spin around in a wave of panic as he bent over and breathed against her ear.

"I miss you."

The whispered confession hurt her; she frowned and made a step backwards.

"No, you don't."

Her tone had been so harsh that she looked down, ashamed. She hadn't meant to be so direct and cold but it was more about self-defense. She shook her head, closed her eyes. Will passed a hand through his hair and glanced at Grace who was speaking to Jack on the sofa. A cloud probably passed in the sky and hid the sun because all of a sudden the large room darkened and lost its natural warmness; unless it was just a sign for what was coming next.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

They weren't talking but murmuring, clutched to the necessary control of their tones for lacking intimacy so much. And it was hard, heartbreaking.

"I don't think you should, Will."

Had she sounded sincere, convincing? A heavy sigh escaped from her lips and she locked her eyes with his brown ones.

"It's not about you but me… This is a new beginning and I'm not sure you should fit in it. I'm sorry."

Jack called Karen and she rushed away from Will, vaguely relieved to have an excuse to leave the kitchen; no matter how abruptly she had put an end to everything. Like that, without thinking about it twice; she already regretted it.

The evening went smoothly and as much as everyone enjoyed Karen's cooking skills, she drew a line under the Italian dish. Her _pasta alla carbonara _had left a bitter taste in her mouth for reminding her way too much of Will.


	29. You've got mail

**_You've got mail_**

It came into her mail at the same time as Stanley's fifth letter of apologies. In what already looked like an old habit, Karen put aside on a little red Chinese table the missive from her ex-husband, barely paid attention to it. She had read all the previous ones without resenting the slightest feeling; her lips frozen in a deep line, her gaze so blank. He recognized everything and even more than what she had known or guessed throughout the years but whatever his words could be, she simply didn't mind. The divorce had been pronounced two weeks earlier and it was time to turn the page now. Anyway she had never been good at dealing with the past.

The rest of the mail landed on the countertop of the kitchen and if it hadn't slid then fallen down on the floor, she would have probably not noticed it at all; even perhaps thrown it away. The envelop was a large blue one, decorated of a dozen of different stamps on it. Karen picked it up, frowned; it was heavy. She immediately opened it, pushed by her curiosity; a certain effervescence invading her fingers. And when the file appeared she suddenly stopped, let go of it.

She hadn't really forgotten about it but concentrated on other things, put it in some corner of her mind and life had gone on. For some mysterious reason she took off her high heels, caressed the hardwood floor with her feet and cleared her voice. Her eyes were staring at the papers, the application form. Her heart began to pump more blood as her throat tightened. Her mouth turned dry and the inevitable shaking spread all over her body. It was a ridiculous panic but a strong one against which she felt disarmed, weak. She turned around and rushed upstairs trying to ignore the humiliation of defeat sounding loud in her head.

From the first floor of her duplex, from her bedroom, Karen could see The Hudson River at the end of the street if she bent over a bit more by the large, old window. She was afraid of heights though so when she felt like contemplating the waters that separated Manhattan from New Jersey, she climbed on the washbowl of the bathroom, sat down there on it and opened the small window over her head. She probably looked extremely stupid with her feet leaned on the edge of the tub but the truth was that she spent a lot of time there, daydreaming; especially when she needed a furtive escape.

Lately she had been inhabited by a strong sentiment of failure over everything; from her marriage to Stanley to the numerous bottles of alcohol that filled her trashcan at the end of the day, passing by Will. Not that she was wishing for a radical change but she just wondered how she could be sure of having made the right choice, at every single moment. Obviously she had been wrong more than once in her life so just because she had moved out on her own and taken off her wedding ring didn't mean that the mistakes would stay away from her until she stopped breathing, closed her eyes forever. And as if she hadn't enough to think about, there was this file now, waiting for her on the countertop of the kitchen. And it represented one of her most important decisions.

All of a sudden she felt the urge to call Will and tell him everything about it. He used to give good advices, even though she was always reluctant to admit it. But since she had turned him down they had kept their distances towards each other; not cold but back to a regular friendship nonetheless hurt by their past closeness. And she missed a lot the confident she had found in him once; the lover too if she had had to be honest.

She was the one who had said stop so all she could do now was accept and assume her own words; she might just need time. And she had to learn how not to rely so much on him now.

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"Do you want more bread or something?"

Grace shook her head and smiled. Karen was a very attentive host and when you were invited at her place, it was probably the best opportunity to see a bit more behind her appearances. Stanley had never spoken about it but she must have been a sweet companion of life; not shy but quiet and dedicated.

"I was wondering… I mean, it's none of my business and that's why I never insisted on it but since the circumstances have changed… Are you still seeing your lover?"

Even though she hadn't expected to speak about it during this evening, Karen had always known that it would come up at some moment, logically. Grace was her best friend and the confession of an adultery couldn't be seen as a mere detail in some random conversation.

Karen passed her hand through her hair and glanced furtively by the window at the streetlights. She might be living in Greenwich but the area was very calm by night. She liked it. Her eyes finally stopped on the table; she was unable to look at her friend properly. Was she blushing? Maybe; she took a sip of her red wine.

"Did I shock you? Did the fact I was having an affair shock you?"

"No, not really; it's more about… I don't know. It was probably already over with Stanley, at least in your head _ in your heart _ so it sounds pretty fair somehow. You could say anything you want, Karen, I know you've never been into pure casual sex because it would match way too much with the unbalanced life your mother provided you until you finally left home. Am I wrong?"

She had never dared to even think about it so hearing the words coming from someone else resulted hard; but true. She swallowed back a latent pain and shrugged, incapable of replying properly. Grace took advantage of it to reiterate her question.

"Do you still see him?"

"No, I don't. It's over; I put an end to it."

"Why did you do that?"

Karen rolled her eyes to prevent a tear from falling down. She just wanted to spend a nice, innocent evening with her friend. Thinking about Will wasn't good at all, way too harsh. She shrugged, frowned; sighed.

"I don't know…"

Her voice had sounded higher than usual, on the verge of crying. She took a deep breath before nodding with determination but the effect didn't work out that much.

"I was losing control over it, Gracie. And I couldn't afford it."


	30. A dizzy merrygoround

**_A dizzy merry-go-round_**

Her smile always resulted bright, no matter the degree of sadness that could weigh on her heart from time to time. It owned a peculiar charm that tended to light up her features and make her eyes sparkle. She looked fine, then; wrongly okay. And it was hard for people to got to know what was going on in her head.

She sighed, looked around; the lounge was very quiet in spite of the numerous tables that were taken. Women in their fifties were sipping in a quiet elegance their expensive tea, chatting in a murmur of exclamations with so-called friends who at the end were pure acquaintances. Karen frowned nervously, wondering if she was still a part of them. The answer was probably affirmative but years and years spent among the high society had taught her to be careful, always on her defensive because you never knew if the person sat down in front of you couldn't all of a sudden turn out to be your worst nightmare; for a word, an innocent mistake. It was more about gossiping than making real friends.

"How are you?"

"Busy, vaguely depressed but nonetheless happy…"

Marilyn looked down at her crossed legs with an ounce of bitterness in her gaze. The words seemed to have just slipped through her lips before finally reaching her brain and abruptly she had realized that she was actually distressed. It wasn't an easy idea to accept.

"You should get a divorce, then. After all, your husband is already seeing someone else."

The remark was bold and for a couple of seconds Karen regretted to have come up with it. The blonde might have been an unexpected confident, they weren't close enough to share such truths, so crude. But Marilyn simply laughed and shook her head, obviously amused.

"You're so young, naïve somehow, to believe that a divorce can resolve everything. It doesn't, my dear. Besides we don't belong to the same generation and I'm not supposed to put an end to my marriage like that. It's more complicated."

Karen's smile froze. She had to recognize Marilyn was right. She had already gone through three marriages and something was still missing in her life. She might have been feeling lighter since she had moved to Little West 12th Street but her throat kept on being oppressive; her mind still tortured by a thousand ideas. Her nights were short, her sleep troubled; ghostly dreams of silent hopes.

Led by her thoughts, she bent over the table and narrowed her eyes at Marilyn; bit her lower lip, concentrated.

"So how does it work? How are we supposed to overcome this sentiment of emptiness? It's so constant that I feel like it has to be a part of me somehow. Do you see what I mean?"

"I'm sixty-five years old, Karen. And Lord knows that I thought about it a lot… But the truth is that I still don't know. Perhaps it's more about adaptation to it; try to focalize on brighter sides. It will soften then; it has to anyway."

Karen didn't reply but looked how Marilyn grabbed her glass, took a sip of her vodka. They used to see each other at least once a week. It was an odd regular basis that for some reason both women didn't enjoy but needed. There was a sort of sincerity in their words and a freedom of speech that the closeness of a friendship couldn't bring. It was good, singular.

"My son speaks a lot about you."

Marilyn's affirmation took Karen completely aback and she didn't know what to say. Her brain had stopped as the ability of language had left her body. Something hurt in her heart and so she swallowed hard.

"He's not obsessed or fascinated by you but… In love, I guess."

"I told him that he shouldn't. It doesn't make the slightest sense."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because I'm right… Look at your own situation, at mine. We get married, blinded by love, and all we get at the end is the bitter sensation that maybe we should have more listened to our head than our heart. Love is like a dizzy merry-go-round that makes you hope way too much. The world seems to spin around, we feel light then all of a sudden, without any warning… We crash. Why do we even try to get involved again in a relationship since it always turns that bad?"

Marilyn raised an eyebrow and smiled softly, nodding in silence at Karen.

"And the worst of all is that you miss him, don't you? You miss my son's attention on you, the ring on your finger; everything. You're mad at yourself for getting trapped again in the bewitching nets of love. It's classic; we're all the same."

"I wish I were different."

"So do I."

"Is Will mad at me for having turned him down?"

The question had been wandering through her confused mind for a long while but as nobody was supposed to know about Will and her, Karen had simply stayed quiet over it. A couple of days earlier they had spent time together; the first face-to-face since her harsh decision. The conversation had slid with fluidity. They had even laughed. Perhaps the required time to get back to a sort of normality between the two of them had finally been filled and their previous closeness was resurging slowly, little by little. It had warmed up her heart.

"No, he's not. He will never be mad at you; he can't since he loves you."

"I have nothing to offer him; no family, no security… It's just me and my so complicated temper, my weird personality. And when I finally dare to let men approach me, they quickly realize that I'm better as a sort of impossible fantasy to reach. Appearances always win over my identity."

"Don't be so hard with yourself. It's unfair, dear. Besides, there is always the chance that until my son, you only dated jackasses. Allow me to think that the man I raised doesn't fit in this category."

And Karen smiled, again. Her features lit up in a magical motion; her eyes started sparkling. But this time it was sincere and wanted because she burst out laughing heartedly.


	31. The downfall of hopes

**_The downfall of hopes_**

Huddled up against the window Karen grabbed her mug and brought it to her face. The steam of the tea spread its heat in a sensual motion along her cheeks, her tired eyes. Her body began to warm up and it made her smile; it was good to come back to life.

She had been surprised by the rain an hour earlier while wandering peacefully through the multicolored streets of Chinatown. As if they belonged to a limpid blue sky, the millions of cabs seemed to have vanished from the surface of New York all of a sudden while the first rain drops had fallen and so she had found herself before the necessity to keep on walking. She had arrived home soaked wet, shivering in spite of the high temperatures of July. The storm had wrapped her up in a torrent of invisible ice that didn't match with the suffocating air of a summer spent in the city. She would even probably get sick.

Her wet clothes were still resting on the hardwood floor next to the countertop of the kitchen, abandoned on a haphazard pile that feet would have walked over in a rush. She hadn't turned the lights on and the loft looked dark, absorbing the pale colors of the stormy sky. She loved Manhattan under the rain; it owned a singular quietness, a very rare one. It was relaxing.

Karen leaned her head against the window, closed her eyes; her heart was beating fast, her mind was confused, a bit anxious. The next morning she would bring her application form to the office located on the last floor of a building she had passed in front of a thousand times yet; without daring to enter. Until now she had only managed to stop in front of it, stare at the door intently and finally go away while her fingers were clutched to the file she had been holding all along the moment of incertitude. Above the sentiment of failure, a series of wonders was troubling the usual balance of her brain as if her cells had been twirling around too quickly and they made her feel dizzy; unable to do the slightest thing.

She was just scared at the end, paralyzed by the fear that her imminent decision would definitely draw a line under her hopes to be happy, to feel alive.

It had nothing to do with being secretive but more an actual matter of intimacy. She didn't feel like sharing it with anyone; not that she wasn't close to her friends but she needed time to think about it and accept the process of analyze it implied over herself. That's why she had spent a lot of time alone lately; concentrated on her blurry sphere.

"You're okay?"

She didn't even jump at the sound of his voice. Her body remained still as a pale smile lit up her delicate features; if only she could hear him more often.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nothing…"

Will made a few steps and sat down on the floor next to Karen. They might have pretended to turn a page over their affair but the truth was that they hadn't come back to their usual friendship. Subconsciously they had grown closer and shared now an odd, disturbing and singular relation. It was all in subtlety; a vague gesture that might have sounded innocent for most of the people but for the strength of the feelings it stirred up, they both knew that it was far from a pure, platonic shade of intentions.

Her hand slid from her lap and came to hang in the air brushing the brick wall in a constant, slow movement. The suggestion might have been quiet if not invisible but Will didn't miss it and very soon his own fingers intertwined Karen's ones. None of them moved; none of them spoke. The rest of the afternoon passed by in the strangeness of silent wishes and the well-known sentiment that they would never manage to save the appearances.

She couldn't have really said if turning him down and putting an end to their affair had been the right thing to do. Like the way gray clouds had invaded the sky earlier that day in a sudden, menacing motion, it seemed to be depending on her mood. By night she missed him way too much. The hours slowed down and she had stopped counting the times she had grabbed the phone, dialed his number before finally abandoning half-way the gesture; as desperate as she could feel. When she saw him, a sensation of quietness passed underneath her skin and calmed down her wonders. She didn't need more by then; his presence in the room was enough to ease her pain. There could be a distance between the two of them that she didn't care. Most of the times she was in Jack's arms or speaking to Grace and a simple gaze was enough, so furtive.

And she knew he was there; would always be.

Will's fingers began to caress the back of her hand; she swallowed hard. How come her body was able to have such reaction before a mere contact? Her warm wonders froze though as she felt his thumb stop on the spot where she had once worn the ring he had given her. She looked down, ashamed by the lack of politeness of her own behavior before the important meaning of the gesture he had attempted. She definitely didn't deserve the jewel now; no matter how much something seemed to be missing on her left finger.

Will's movement troubled her and so she stood up quickly; rushed to the kitchen, opened the fridge. In a vague attempt to give some sense at her actions, she took out a plate with chicken leftovers. She wasn't hungry at all but at least she would pretend to be busy.

She felt so stupid, ridiculous. Like a sudden explosion taking place in her heart, Karen felt the downfall of her hopes hit the floor in a loud, transparent sadness for having believed once that she would be able to turn the page; to forget about him as someone else than a friend.

"What are you thinking about?"

The question took her aback. She bit into some breast chicken and shrugged; frowned.

"Just an ephemeral life…"


	32. Acceleration of a heart

**_Acceleration of a heart_**

Three weeks had passed by under the same effervescence ruined by a low, powerful disappointment as soon as she opened her mailbox and checked the envelopes; then realized almost shamefully that it hadn't arrived. Perhaps next time; a little voice always tried to warm up her cold body, smile at her hopes and take her away with the lightness of what sounded more like disillusions at the end though. But Karen persisted, in spite of everything. Her determination wasn't strong but blinding; quiet too. Sometimes she could feel the words boil in her stomach and reach her lips while being with Will but her apprehension was such that she never dared to say the slightest thing. She was afraid of people's reactions, their laughter; even more than an eventual negative answer from the agency.

Humiliation was a notion she had prohibited from her own sphere; it didn't have to touch her in any way. That was probably one of the reasons why she remained so distant and never alluded to her feelings. A scar caused by a comment was a lot more painful than a physical act for flirting so dangerously with the flesh of a fragile subconscious and she didn't want to live that; not again. Her lips formed a delicate line, then; she looked down, restrained a sigh before pretending that everything was alright.

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_I wish I could say it_

_Just murmur it against my lips…_

The cork broke the intensity brought up by the movie and Karen shrugged, falsely apologizing to her friends' pissed off gazes. She rolled her eyes and poured some wine in a glass before coming back to the sofa in Jack's arms.

She had seen this movie a thousand times _ actually knew it by heart _ but for once the spell didn't work. It sounded too personal, weirdly enough; and she didn't want to share her emotions with anyone. She kept her mind busy on other things instead, not that it really worked but at the end she still had the satisfaction to think she had tried to avoid the painful subject of some desperate goodbyes between two lovers under the rain hitting the platform of a railway station. She wasn't in the mood for love, for romanticism and the hopeful smiles that used to accompany the so classic sentiment. No, she just wished she could forget and draw a line under the ghosts of some memories that were torturing her soul.

The phone rang, making everyone jump unexpectedly; ruining once again the spell of the romance on television. She stood up: got the call but headed straight to her bedroom for more intimacy.

It had crossed her mind for a couple of seconds, even though she knew that it wasn't the procedure and so she wouldn't get any call but a letter. She just couldn't help it. Wishing was a dizzy, bewitching sentiment and she had no hold over it. No matter the way her heart seemed to be stabbed whenever she felt disappointed by the dead-end Deus Ex Machina; something pushed her to think it might have been time.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and tried to ease her cardiac rhythm as her mother kept on talking on the other end of the line. Lois' low voice didn't get any effect though and the words flew away, above Karen's head. Karen didn't manage to listen to her, lost as she was in her incomprehensible wonders. She was tired, of everything; all those lies she nonetheless claimed out loud every day. She just wanted to close her eyes and let her existence go on, led by some fate, a logic that nobody would ever really understand.

And so she lied down, her body molding the mattress smoothly. Very soon the ceiling disappeared as she finally closed her eyes; a hand on her stomach. She ended the conversation in the same indifference as the way she had started it but she didn't come back immediately to the living-room. Her daydreams sounded more appealing, at least for a few seconds more.

"I always wondered how it could be in your head."

He surprised her. Her heart began to beat faster though she wouldn't have been sure that it was because of his unexpected presence, the effect caused by his sudden entrance. Her whole body responded to Will's voice as soon as he happened to be in the same room as her.

"It's a really messy world, all blurry; pretty dark."

"What are you afraid of, Karen?"

She opened widely her hazel eyes and turned her head on a side. He had sat down on the hardwood floor and was intently looking at her. She didn't like the way Will often adopted such a serious note. It was disturbing, intimidating. It reminded her of Stanley and his superior gazes over her; she felt uncomfortable then.

"Why did you come here? You should be in the living-room, watching the movie."

"I wanted to be sure that I hadn't forgotten the taste of your lips."

She swallowed back a gasp. Her heart started pounding loud against her chest, hitting her flesh with a soft violence. But she didn't move, didn't protest; simply raised an eyebrow that tended more to invite him to go on. And so he did. His fingers caressed her chin, slid on her nape. He leaned over; captured her lips in a chaste kiss.

Everything got mixed in the fog of her brain: Will, the application form, the consequences of all her acts, the way her body seemed to warm up as soon as they kissed.

Very slowly her hand travelled from the pillow to his hair and she pushed him to deepen the kiss, moaning in his mouth as he did so.

She was in the mood for nothing but a cruel lack of possibilities.


	33. Of Will and other things

**_Of Will and other things_**

When she went for a walk through the streets of the West Village, Karen often wondered how she could have loved once The Upper East Side. The select area seemed pale, artificial and cold in comparison with the colorful buildings of The Meatpacking district where she was living now; all those people chatting at the doors of old buildings, little restaurants that looked more like the kitchen of your family home than the precious marble and hype design of so-called unique rooms where the food was bad and scandalously expensive.

She liked the authenticity of the place, the simplicity of the inhabitants and its proximity with The Hudson River that, for whatever reason, kept on fascinating her. She felt like she was discovering the essence of New York, at last; as if those two decades spent in Manhattan yet had only been blinded by the effect of spotlights and luxury when Madison Avenue was just a detail that didn't even have to do with the real charms of the city. And it was so obvious now; she belonged to The West Village and would never be able to live anywhere else.

From time to time she stopped by an old bookstore and plunged with a delicate pleasure in the reading of architectural volumes about the area. She wanted to learn more; about the past, the history of anonymous souls that had made of this place the peculiar, unique little square of buildings for which her heart was beating fast, her eyes sparkling. And before realizing it, she had turned into a specialist of The Meatpacking district, unexpectedly enough. Nobody knew about it though; she used to tell the stories to herself while a soft smile played on her lips as the single detail that might have showed people that something was delighting her senses.

The rain of September had stopped pouring, revealing thus a blue sky; a bit colder than the temperatures of the summer. She had asked him to come over with the innocent excuse to share some time in his company when at the end all she really wanted was to take his hand and capture his lips as he had done a few weeks earlier. They had kissed, in spite of her previous, harsh decision to put an end to their relationship. And the feeling stirred up by the mere contact of his skin against hers had been way too intense to let it go again.

And she was ready; ready to be with him.

The walk had been silent but nice and peaceful. They didn't need to speak that much while being together. The absence of words didn't bring any uncomfortable sensation, on the contrary; it sounded natural, logical.

They made their way to the pier and stopped to contemplate New Jersey on the other side of the river. The entrance of the old White Star Line was just a few steps ahead; the metallic ensemble caressing of a long and dark shadow the ground lit up by the sun. Karen leaned on a pillar and looked down; this was the moment.

She passed her tongue over her dry lips and tried to ignore how fast her heart was beating. Would the years ever ease the fear imposed by the confession of intimate feelings?

"You know, I've been wondering… I mean… Well, are you seeing someone lately?"

She cleared her voice and shrugged, waiting desperately for his answer even though she knew that it would be a negative one. He hadn't been dating anyone for a very long time; not even had a one-night stand as a matter of fact. And Marilyn's constant remarks only comforted her hopes; gave her some courage.

"No, I'm not…"

Karen suddenly looked up and locked her eyes with his; blinked at the sun. She leaned her head on a side, smiled shyly.

"Then maybe… I wanted you to know that I'm ready; not that you have to accept, don't feel forced or anything. It's just that since we kissed I haven't stopped thinking about you, about us… And I would be glad to give it another chance. I guess it's pretty fair seeing… Well, isn't it?"

She had never felt so weak, so small before the immensity and the abruptness of the world. It seemed that she had lost her name, all the references that determined her own identity. And she was left there, in the middle of nowhere; being just a girl in front of a boy that she liked a lot.

"I'm just asking for love…"

The tone of her voice broke into a murmur of insecurity but she nonetheless kept on looking at him as if she didn't want to miss the slightest second of his reaction; the way he would take her in his arms and lean over to kiss her lips.

She had been sincere, looking for something more serious than a mere affair; but all of a sudden a wave of panic spread over her mind and she began to wonder if she hadn't scared him way too much. After all her last sentence was a confession in itself, an implicit one.

Will sighed and raised his eyebrows before finally frowning. He made a few steps closer to her.

"You see, Karen… I can't say that your offer isn't tempting, on the contrary. The first time we kissed, it got me lost. I didn't understand what was happening; why I did enjoy it. Then the evidence _weirdly enough as it is _ imposed itself to me and from then on I have wished nothing but that. Being with you, hold your hands, make you smile… I came to you three times yet and you always ended up turning me down. It hurt more and more every time, you know, even though I understood your reasons. But the fact is that I'm tired of being dumped and I don't think I could handle it if it ever had to happen again. So as much as I appreciate your offer, I'm going to decline it. I'm sorry."

At this exact moement she didn't feel like crying; no, she just wished that she could have died at the scene and let the sadness of her heart steal the last breath of life from her body.


	34. Getting married and living in Scarsdale

**_Getting married and living in Scarsdale_**

_Dear little Buddha,_

_I did come this morning but they wouldn't let me in so I came back to Manhattan, sat down at my desk and started writing this letter immediately. _

_Happy birthday, honey… I know you must feel lonely right now, so far from your relatives but if you close your eyes you will see that I'm doing the same to picture you out. The truth is that I miss you and I would have given anything to hold you in my arms and murmur to your ears some sweet birthday song. Now it's all about thinking, some fantasies but they still make us feel closer at the end; at least in our hearts. _

_Your present is there, on the coffee table of the living-room just in front of me. I already regret the fact that I won't witness your smile when you open it. I remember you used to giggle a lot on Christmas Eve; and your eyes were sparkling. _

_You've already lived a whole decade and we have actually shared most of this time together. That might explain the reason why I consider you as the child that I have never had. You know me very well so I'm sure you're not so surprised at the end that I confess it through this letter and not during a face-to-face. Speaking of feelings has always got me paralyzed; I'm not good at that._

_I wanted to apologize for not having said it earlier; and also for all the rest, all these times when I turned my back at you and advanced that I wasn't available to play with you, to listen to you. I apologize if I have ever hurt you and I'm sure I did at some point. I just hope you have been able to read through the lines and guessed how much I love you and Olivia. _

_I will come on Sunday and we will work on your Chinese though I'm sure you know a lot more now than I do. _

_Take care of you, Mason_

_Karen_

She put down her pen and scanned the room. The sun was piercing through the large windows; the place looked bright, calm. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and smiled. A few seconds passed by before the features of her face _ usually so delicate _ began to freeze, deepened. And as unexpected as a snowfall in the middle of May, a tear appeared at the corner of her eye; then ran down her cheek silently.

Would her heart ever stop feeling so weak?

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"My son is stubborn."

Marilyn sighed and raised the palms of her hands towards the ceiling apologetically. A waitress stopped at the table with a plate of olives and smiled politely before heading back to the bar.

She hadn't meant to call Marilyn but the fact was that she needed to speak, get some advices; and the blonde was the only one she could rely on. She felt stuck and ashamed for hiding everything to her closest friends but she had a good excuse: Will's protection, and the bases of their strong friendship. She just wished sometimes that it didn't have to be so painful.

"What are you expecting exactly from Will?"

The question troubled Karen but she very soon realized the real meaning of it; and the emptiness of her answer. She had never thought about it before. As surprising as it was, all the things she had fantasized about were being in his arms, smiling at him, filling her lungs with his scent and…

"I want him to make me happy."

The conclusion showed up by itself as she let the words caress her lips; hit the air.

"But what is your definition of happiness? It's while looking for it that we have the most of chances to actually miss it…"

"I felt fine when I was with him, lighter; calm. This is what I'm missing right now, all the sensations he used to bring. I can't believe I let him go away…"

"Would you like to marry him, raise a family with him? I mean… Do you have any plan like that?"

Karen picked an olive and played with it for a few seconds; just the required time to prepare her answer to Marilyn. If she wasn't sure of what she actually wanted with Will besides a couple of basic dreams, she knew very well what she wanted to avoid at any price. She crossed her hands and put them down on her knees; locked her eyes with the blonde's.

"And then what, we would move to Scarsdale? I've married twice and I'm afraid the fantasies I may have had once about marriage plunged into bitter disillusions so there's no way for me to go down the altar one more time; with Will like with anyone else. And if I happen to have, one day, my own children, I will never ruin the chance for them to live in this wonderful borough that is Manhattan. I hate the suburbs; they make me feel sick. People think that New York City isn't appropriate for children but that's only because they don't know this place at all. Just because a city is big doesn't mean that it's not safe. Besides, most of the assaults do take place in those so-called peaceful areas where life is so boring that as soon as they come to Manhattan, people from the suburbs plan it as if it were the 'travel of the year'. It's sad, pitiful; whatever you want to call it. I want my children to know what life really is. I want them to learn about respect of differences and the reject of conformism that suburbs tend to apply for everyone. I want them to discover the world, go to museums; feed themselves with the incredible profusion of styles that makes of New York its uniqueness. The suburbs only keep alive an apathy that kills your brain for living in a fake world where clichés and misconceptions about the rest predominate. I don't want my children to waste their free time wandering aimlessly _ bored _ through the aseptic alleys of a mall with their friends on Saturday afternoons and to be so dependant of a car for being so far from every point of interest. Life is not all pinky and it's exactly what living in a big city teaches you at the end; getting a responsible behavior, being aware of injustice, open-minded to differences and culture. People who live here don't fall into the typical paranoia of the suburbs and you know why? Because they learned to think about themselves, to apprehend the world as it really is, since their earliest childhood; and there's no lie about the way life is then, no deceptions. They're careful, independent and smart. They love the truth they witness every day; no matter how hard it is somehow. I lived in the suburbs for way too long not to know what makes Manhattan so special, any big city. The most terrible things happen where life is boring. And Lord knows there's nothing more monotone than the rows of identical houses _ so clean _ with a flag floating over a perfect front yard. When you have the chance to be able to live in New York City, you don't go somewhere else, especially to raise your kids; because you know about the millions of activities and areas that the place can offer to them on a daily basis. And it's not artificial, cloned somehow as the malls and the suburbs are. Life is real here, unexpected and multicolored; not like in any bad Disney movie."

She stopped as abruptly as she had started and gasped, completely breathless. Little by little her features softened and she came back to a more relaxed position on her seat. Her heart had spoken for her, taking her away in the anger stirred up by so many people's misconceptions. She swallowed hard and passed her tongue over her dry lips. Marilyn looked impassible, perfectly still on the other side of their table at Pastis.

Karen bit the inside of her mouth; she might have gone too far when the question had clearly been innocent, friendly.

"I wish I had had your guts when I married George. You've never been so right… We accept to leave for a so-called better place with the only project to raise a family but what we forget is that one day our children leave; for the exact same place we thought so unsafe for them. And they look happy there, finally at the right place. Nothing special happens to them, nothing different from what existence brings. Our days turn in a harsh monotony when they do so _ a lonely one _ only lit up by the idea of their return; even so hopelessly."


	35. Just a thing or two, a whole life

**_Just a thing or two, a whole life_**

"She's in love. No, she didn't confess anything to me but as much as she tries to hide it, there's this little sparkle in her eyes. And the way she smiles, have you noticed it? She looks different, lighter but for some reason her features remain deep and she seems tired. Perhaps it didn't work out at the end and so she feels hurt. I wish I could help her but she doesn't want to speak about it. I tried, several times; but she always ended up saying that she was fine and before I could reply, she was already focalized on something else. She's sad, tortured by her feelings; afraid maybe, who knows? I wish she weren't so secretive, so insecure. Then she would understand what living means."

He made a pause, sighed and shook his head. He had spent so many hours thinking about Karen's situation that his brain cells refused a straight comment and everything got messed up within a second. It got on his nerves, even more when he almost could feel his friend's distress. While waking up in the first hours of the morning from a troubled sleep, the conclusions had come to him with an irrelevant logic: he had to do something.

He abandoned his seat and jumped on a table, sat down on it; his legs balancing from left to right.

"I need your help. She needs our help. The truth is that I don't know what to do in order she feels fine and you know as well as I do how she deserves it at the end. Obviously I've been wrong more than once with Karen because I did think she was in love with Stanley. Her mind is focused on someone else now and it has nothing to do with who she was when we all met. This is pure, sincere. I hope she will manage to fully experience it… It's never too late."

He grabbed a pencil and began to draw abstract lines on a sheet of paper but her gaze on him stopped his gesture immediately. He put back the item on the table, rushed to the coffee maker as if in need of an occupation to keep his hands busy. The fact was that he wasn't sure of her reaction when he had finished his speech. Perhaps she would disagree with him, refuse to interfere with their friend's intimacy; fair enough if Karen's soul had been quieter and not so in pain. It broke his heart to see her waste her days in the hopeless expectation of what seemed an untouchable relation.

"You're a woman. She might trust you more than me… Not that you're so delicate but you two still share a strong friendship. I'm not her confident except for childish things; it's the way how it works. We all know it. She never goes towards me when it comes to serious wonders, dark interrogations. That's the reason why you and Will are here. But speaking about men is better with a girl friend. I came to you for it. I hope you understand my request; for Karen. It's a matter of happiness."

Mug of coffee in hand, Jack rolled his eyes; pouted.

"I just wonder who it is…"

Grace frowned before looking down at the floor intently. The words slid on her lips in a murmur of relief.

"It's Will."

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Karen's relation to food had always been hectic, depending on her mood; some peculiar whims she couldn't really explain. For a whole week the mere idea of biting into a piece of chocolate cake could nourish her obsessive fantasies and all of a sudden, by some chemistry of her body, she changed her preferences for cheese; or eggs, like this morning.

She had just sat down in front of the television with a plate of scrambled eggs in her hands when the doorbell rang. She checked her watch; frowned. Nobody ever stopped so early at her place on a Saturday morning. People used to have a rest by then and they started going out around eleven; not at ten. Surprised, she stood up and opened the door at a UPS employer holding a small parcel.

"Are you Karen Walker?"

She might have got a divorce from Stanley but the only thing she had actually wanted to keep _ besides money _ had been his surname for it sounding right to her ears.

"Yes, I am…"

"Would you please sign the receipt?"

She did and very soon found herself back on her sofa; the small parcel on her lap.

With a barely contained nervousness, her hands opened the cardboard box. She bent over, pushed by her curiosity and narrowed her eyes. Another parcel was inside of it, as well as a sheet of paper. Of course she didn't pay attention at all to the letter and went straight for the hidden item.

Perhaps she should have been more patient and read the missive before. Her heart wouldn't have made a jump, setting off a gasp; a deep surprise. Her lips were shaking; the blood seemed to have vanished from her face as her eyes stayed fixed on the ring. Very slowly she came back to her senses and grabbed the paper.

_I always said it had to be yours; no matter what we chose at the end. _

_Your finger looks so bare without it. It suits you way too well for you_

_not to wear it. Please accept it as a gift from a very good friend…_

_Will_


	36. Doubts in the morning

**_Doubts in the morning_**

"I started wondering about it a very long time ago; perhaps even before something actually happened. For some reason one day I looked at her with more attention then followed her gaze. She was staring at Will with a rare intensity; an emotion you can't control. And when he locked his eyes with hers, I understood. It only lasted a couple of seconds but it resulted enough to stir up some doubts. I didn't say anything to anyone, just tried to be more attentive to their gestures and if it hadn't been for this sparkle in their eyes as soon as they looked at each other, I would have probably thought that I was just going crazy. But then Marilyn came up; an overheard conversation she was having over the phone. She was talking with Karen, about him. The funniest part is that it never hurt me. I feel indifferent towards it while I could have sworn that if it had had to occur one day, I would have thrown a fit. I may have turned the page over Will… I don't know. I love him, that's a fact; but I can't imagine myself in his arms anymore while if I close my eyes, it's so easy to picture Karen out. Will and Karen… Even their names, associated, sound perfectly right to my ears…"

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Grace brought the cocktail to her lips and raised an eyebrow at Jack in a silent motion. She took a sip, hid her smile as her friend looked up at Karen and Will who were speaking in the background near to the counter of the bar. The music was loud and the lights subdued while the curtains falling from the high ceiling gave an intimate atmosphere to the place; but also reduced the vision of the scene, already blurred by the vapors of alcohol running through their veins.

She had gone to the bathroom; he had taken a call, stepped out of The Buddha Bar to be in full capacity of hearing his interlocutor and like by a trick of some fate, they had come up to a face-to-face while returning to the table where Jack and Grace were waiting for them. She hadn't said a word about the ring yet; had lacked time for it as a matter of fact, and some courage. But the finger of her left hand was wearing it again and whenever it brushed her skin, Karen closed her eyes to imagine that the gesture was Will's. It made her shiver and smile, a bit hopelessly.

"I wonder what they're talking about…"

"This is none of your business."

Jack sighed, rolled his eyes dramatically before pouting at Grace. Of course he knew she was right but his curiosity was stronger, burning his mind for details; any proof.

"Have you ever seen them kiss?"

Grace shook her head and settled further in her seat, never breaking eye-contact with the mute scene playing on the other end of the room. What if her suppositions were wrong? What if at the end her doubts were only based on pure fantasies created by her boundless imagination? Karen smiled at his exact moment; leaned over to murmur in Will's ear, her hand on his forearm.

"We don't need a kiss, Jack; we're having more right now. Sometimes the truth can stay under silence and nonetheless be so loud."

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It usually took two minutes or so from The Buddha Bar to Karen's flat but as soon as they found themselves in the fresh air of the night, the four friends realized how fuzzy their brains were; how the world seemed to go so slowly through the charms of too many drinks.

They finally reached her place, breathless for whatever reason. Jack crawled on the sofa and gave up the idea to go upstairs to share Karen's bed while Will and Grace would spend the rest of the night in the guest room next door.

The truth was that she used to move around with the sleepy sensation stirred up by alcohol on a permanent basis but she might have gone too far for once because the room started spinning around as soon she entered her own bedroom. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes and grabbed the edge of an old table not to lose completely her balance. A smile lit up her face; she felt light, full of an artificial happiness that tasted better than the real one. Karen hadn't experienced it since college after having smoked pot and emptied a bottle of vodka in the dorm of her friends. It sounded good, funny.

A light sound made her jump. She turned around and looked at Will with a vague perplexity. Obviously he had just gone to the bathroom at the end of the corridor and was coming back to the guest bedroom when he had noticed the shadow of her tiny frame leaned against the wall; her door ajar. They both stayed still for a couple of seconds but all of a sudden Karen grew tired of it and she turned her back at him, sighing heavily. Her steps were unsteady and when she noticed she couldn't walk straight, she began to giggle; then gasped and froze as she felt his hands on her waist.

"What are you doing, honey?"

She turned around very slowly. His pupils were diluted; his mind off, like hers. Without knowing why a mischievous grin played on her lips and she made a step backwards. She took off her top, unzipped her skirt, got rid of her stockings; unhooked her bra. Her hips were balancing from right to left in a sensual movement as her arms played with the feminine curves of her body; pushing up her breasts, accentuating the shapes of her thighs. She was vaguely conscious of her semi-strip-tease in front of him but the odd sensation that she was actually witnessing the scene made her keep on going; until Will lost his balance and fell over her. She had no time to think about it and within a second she found herself under him, laid down on her bed.

They kissed. She passed her legs around him and squeezed his waist, sighing in his mouth as his hands began to travel down her hips; along her breasts.

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Karen opened her eyes widely, suddenly. The bright light of the day hit with an unexpected strength her half-asleep brain and she let escape a moan of pain. A headache was pounding against her temples, her mouth was dry; she was exhausted. She rolled on her back and scanned the bedroom. The door was opened ajar, stifled voices reaching her ears in a sweet distance; probably from downstairs. Her right foot started caressing her left knee and it's when she realized that she was naked under the sheets. She swallowed hard, blinked twice and casted a glance at the pillow next to her. She was alone, her clothes forming a pile on the floor. The general mess of the bed could easily be attributed to the dose of alcohol she had ingurgitated the night before but for some reason her heart began to beat faster under the weight of heavy morning doubts.

She felt light, calm in spite of the situation. Her body didn't hurt at all and seemed to be in perfect harmony with all the rest; way too much for not setting off an alarm in her head. She got up very quickly and grabbed a bathrobe before rushing downstairs.

Will was in the kitchen preparing toasts while Jack and Grace were sat in front of the television. Forcing a smile, she rushed to the fridge, opened it and grabbed pointlessly a bottle of orange juice.

Her eyes followed his legs, his torso; and before finally looking at him straightly, she took a deep breath.

"You're okay?"

She nodded awkwardly and bit her lower lip. She felt stupid; scared of a lot of things, all of a sudden.

"What happened last night?"

Her whisper made her blush and she stared at him nervously. She looked in pain, completely off balance and ashamed for not remembering her acts from the previous night. Will didn't move for a time that seemed to last way too long but he finally shrugged and let a soft smile appear.

"Nothing…"


	37. December, 16th

**_December, 16th_**

It came back slowly to her mind, little by little like the soft melody of some lullaby. A sigh, fingers digging into a back; but her heartbeats remained calm, unexpectedly. She was remembering the night in every single one of its details with such logic that she couldn't feel ashamed, nervous or guilty. The series of drinks had troubled her senses, his too, unless it had only released their deepest wishes.

She closed her eyes and let some air fill her lungs in a long, slow motion. Her mouth tasted funny, bitter because of the lack of synchronization between her brain and their acts. She had lost a week, wandering through a fog of doubts that had now dissipated but nonetheless engraved something on her flesh. She passed her tongue over her lips and frowned, pushing her wonders further as a question remained unanswered at the end. Why had he lied to her the next morning? She knew him way too well and it didn't sound like him at all. Will always assumed his choices, no matter what they led to; and then he dealt with them as much as he could. Had he tried to avoid the subject?

She swallowed hard and restrained a moan. Her hands were cold; she was shivering, her complexion a bit livid. A strong buzz resounded in her head; she grabbed the edge of her desk.

"Karen, are you alright?"

Grace abandoned the magazine she had been leafing through and rushed to her, kneeling down by her side. Karen jumped as she felt her friend's hand on her forehead. She opened her eyes and shook her head slowly.

"Do you mind if I come back home now? I need to rest; I'm exhausted."

"Sure… Do you think you will come tomorrow? I need you to welcome Mister Porter; you know, this big client… I told you about him a thousand times and how he would come on December, 16th."

Like an alarm setting off in her head, the resonance of the date made her freeze, blink. Six months already… She hadn't noticed _ hadn't wanted to _ the passing of time and the limits imposed by the last clause on the application form she had filled. She checked her watch; two o'clock pm. If she had no news of the agency within twenty-four hours, it would be too late and she could draw a line under her silent, thin hopes; all these dreams she had allowed herself to have.

It began to twirl around in her stomach and she felt the wave of warmness rush to her eyes. She stood up quickly, grabbed her bag and rushed out of the office.

The street was desert, no cab but a bus arrived at the corner and without thinking it twice, Karen climbed on it; sat down next to a window, closed her eyes. What had she done exactly not to deserve the right to have a chance and get a proper life? Was it a sort of punishment for all the dark sides she had flirted with until now? Drugs, alcohol, sex; why couldn't they forgive her mistakes? She stifled a sob behind the palm of her hand and bit her lips tighter. It seemed that everything was falling down slowly but with a disturbing, painful self-confidence and she was witnessing _ powerless _ the decadence of her days. She dreaded the end, the abrupt crash on the floor and the pain it would stir up all over her silent body.

She just wanted to live at the end.

The bus stopped right in front of her building; she stepped out of it but instead of crossing the street, she sat down on the bench and looked blankly at the green plant through the windows of her living-room. Her hands were resting on her bag in an absent-minded posture; her mouth slightly opened.

Five minutes passed by unless it was a whole hour but life seemed to speed up before her eyes as she observed, disarmed, the world going on without her. She was losing her references or better said they were abandoning her slowly and she felt dragged away by the invisible strength of her disappointed heart.

She didn't see him approach, sit down next to her. Only the sound of his voice reached her ears and like every time Will did, she felt safe, warm.

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Grace put back the phone on its base and stared at it dubitatively, wondering if she had been right while getting so impulsive. She had been moved, motivated by a pure sentiment of necessity before Karen's distress and for some reason, she knew deep inside herself that she wasn't the one able to comfort her friend right now.

She took a deep breath and came back to the magazine she had been studying but a whirl of wonders began to dance in her head from Karen's silence to the stress of her work, imposed deadlines that she couldn't but respect. She had been dealing with a lot of clients lately and it made her feel guilty for not having had time to try and help her friend when obviously Karen did need a presence next to her; an attentive soul and a couple of advices. She had neglected human relationships for money and the appealing idea of a successful career, personal interests.

"I am looking for Karen Walker's office… Is this her place of work?"

Grace looked up and blinked at a woman in her forties, briefcase in hand; black, classic suit. She was short, looked a bit conservative behind her glasses.

"Well of course it depends on the definition that you give of the verb 'to work' but technically, yes it is. However Karen is not here today; she wasn't feeling very well, I'm sorry. You can come back tomorrow if you want, she should…"

"Oh that's perfect if she's not here. I'm not supposed to meet her yet. Are you Grace Adler from Grace Adler Design? I mean, are you Karen Walker's boss?"

Grace's eyes grew wider in perplexity and she nodded slowly, lost by the woman's straight invectives.

"Oh good… Nice to meet you then..."

In a friendly motion she tended her hand to Grace who shook it before frowning. The situation was slipping through her fingers completely.

"I'm sorry but do I know you?"

"Not that I can remember but I come here for the first step in the procedure your employee has applied for. I have some questions for you concerning Karen Walker… My name is Catherine Banks; from Adoption Without Borders Agency."


	38. A matter of time

**_A matter of time_**

"Look how the sky is blue, Karen. This is a hopeful day; we all need time."

Her hazel eyes followed his comment and she observed the limpid immensity above her head from the bench they were sat on. His fingers slid on the palm of her hand in a soft, comforting caress until their respective skin made full contact. He tightened his grip; she leaned on his shoulder and smiled.

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_Four months later_

"Karen, hurry up! The cab's waiting for you…"

Grace's invective put an abrupt end to her wonders and leaned against the wall _ her arms crossed in a protective motion _ Karen nodded at her friend, vaguely resigned. Like the leaves swept by the wind in the fall, his promise was flying away slowly in a whirl of disappointment that made her heart beat quickly; an ounce of sadness looking after the veil over her eyes.

She bit the inside of her mouth and grabbed her coat, scanning the room for the last time before closing the door. She stepped into the car and Little West 12th suddenly vanished in her back.

"Do you have everything you need? I mean your passport, the papers, your digital cam…"

The words were remaining in the depths of her stomach, buried by the wave of tears that was asking for welling up in her eyes. A discreet nod confirmed Jack's question. She frowned, took a deep breath.

Life seemed to have speeded up its pace for the past four months since Will had sat down next to her on the bench in front of her building; afternoon of wonders and pain. Her application had been accepted by the adoption agency under the general surprise but nobody had laughed at her; nobody had ever said that her decision sounded crazy, ridiculous enough. On the contrary, they had supported her all along, no matter the silence she had put over it for so long and it hadn't taken a lot of time before she received Tam's file. The little girl was a year and a half, living in China. She was healthy, sweet; in need of tenderness and love, big brown eyes and dark hair.

"Take pictures of Tam, ok? Oh I wish I could come with you… You must be so excited!"

A smile lit up Karen's face under Grace's statement. After two months of photographers she had bought her first flight ticket to China. Within a day now she would meet her daughter for the very first time, be able to take her in her arms; kiss the top her head and spend some time with her. They needed to know each other, to learn about what existence could look like while being together. A strong impatience had been rushing through her veins for a whole week now but she hadn't been able to close her eyes the night before as a sudden anxiety had spread over her mind. What if it didn't work at the end? What if she failed?

_We all need time…_

She hadn't forgotten Will's words, repeated them every single day as soon as she felt her courage slip through her fingers in a cold motion. They had stayed still for hours sat down on the bench, in each other's arms that afternoon then time had passed by. The fall had disappeared under the snow and they hadn't kissed back, hadn't shared a single night; never alluded to their relation again. They had grown closer, more or less flirted and all she was waiting for was the day he would be ready to properly come back to her arms.

They arrived at the airport and went straight to the check-in area. The place was crowded; entire families leaving on vacation for Asia and as Karen observed them silently, she felt stupid, alone with her travel bag.

He had told her that he would come to say good-bye but as much as she kept on staring at the automatic doors, Will didn't appear and his absence weighed a lot on her soul.

"He's going to make it; don't be worried. His meeting probably lasted longer than what he had thought in the first place."

Jack rubbed her back and smiled at her as her slow steps towards the gate revealed her barely hidden deception.

"And anyway, he will always be here when you come back from the first visit you make to your child. You should be thinking about Tam, not Will!"

According to the agency the average of journeys was from three to six before being able to come back definitely and on a legal status with the child. It seemed so long, so hard. This travel was just the beginning of the whole story, her own life; and she would need patience to finally start living with Tam.

Twenty minutes flew away in a perfect silence as the three friends remained sat down on their seats; Jack and Grace waiting for the boarding, Karen focused on Will. And like the last drop of water filling a vase, her limited time arrived to an end. Her throat tightened as she hugged them, still looking upon their shoulders, just in case he would arrive; running to her like in some old movie, the typical final scene of a romantic comedy. But fiction had nothing to do with reality and nobody showed up.

"Call us when you arrive…"

Karen turned on her heels, showed her ticket to the flight attendant; took a deep breath then made a step forward in the corridor leading to the plane. The sound of her high heels was stifled by the carpeted floor and the loud beats of her heart; the pain in her eyes. She wouldn't allow herself to cry before Manhattan being far behind and only strangers would be able to witness her moment of weakness when the strength of her mind would abdicate before the tenderness of her soul.

"Karen!"

She froze, swallowed hard but didn't turn around until a hand grabbed her wrist and made her so. There he was, at last, standing in front of her; completely breathless. His fingers had reduced to nothing what must have been once a ticket flight. She frowned, perplexed.

"Listen…"

Will passed a hand through his hair and let some passengers pass next to them. The place definitely lacked intimacy but none of them really cared. As soon as they locked their eyes with each other's, they closed the doors of their sphere to anyone; they were apart, feeling safe.

"I need time but I'm also wasting it cruelly when all I should be telling you right now is how much I love you."

The plane took off. She tightened the grip on his hand, closed her eyes as her head leaned on his shoulder and she settled further on her seat. Her lips brushed his blouse in a chaste kiss; she felt his smile lit up his features, a peaceful one.

_Decadence_

_Function: noun_

_From Medieval Latin 'decadentia', from Late Latin 'deadent-, decadens'_

_To fall, to sink, rupture with a routine rhythm_

_Symbol for a new life_


End file.
